Letters of a Dying Girl
by TheCollisionOfYourKissInDragt6
Summary: Max was dying. In three years she would die. In three years the cancer would spread to her heart and cut off her life supply. But she could live. If she stayed in hospital for the rest of her life. Getting different chemotherapy, UVI, Cat Scans, Heart Monitors, X-Rays, Ventilators, ECG, EEG, Blood Pressure, CPM and so on. She was sick of dying. So she gets discharged.
1. Hypocrates

Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the beginning of a brand new story, by yours truly, Dagger! This is called Letters of a Dying Girl.

It is a little sad, not gonna lie. And by sad, I mean like, depression and stuff like that. So if your not into that, I don't blame you, but I will warn you when there is depressive stuff Kay? If your not into that, don't feel inclined to read it.

But I would really appreciate it if you did.

But it's a bit sad.

You get used to it.

Enjoy!

Hypocrates

3 Years Ago

April 12, Year 2012

"Okay so we've conducted this Cat Scan which is showing that it's slowly creeping up toward your left coxa. Now there's not a lot we can do, but we can put you through Chemotherapy again so that we can slow the cancers growth and stop it getting closer. How does that sound?"

"Will it go away?"

"Uh, not exactly, but it won't bother you for a while longer,"

Dr. Sheridan says,

"Doc, let's be literal here. If I don't get this chemo and I just, I don't know, live an normal life, how long?"

He looks confused,

"How long?"

"How long till I bit the dust?"

"Max!"

"What!? It's gonna happen anyway!"

The doctor looked down. He looked up,

"If you live a healthy normal life, no medical help or advantages?"

"Yes,"

He sighed and smiled sadly,

"Three years,"

"What if I don't? I continue with the chemotherapy and treatment? How long then?"

". . ."

"Doc, you can tell me. After all, you can't keep me alive forever,"

He sighed.

"Five years,"

"Thank you sir,"

"Max, would you like t-"

"Thanks Doc, really. I'll give you an answer in the morning,"

"Max-"

"Thank you,"

And I got up and stalked out of there. Monique came running after me. She was beautiful wanna-be-could-be model. She has beautiful Mocha coloured skin, with long wavy dark brown hair, a single blonde streak through her fringe and beautiful hazel eyes. She was tall and gorgeous. She had a heart shape face, plump lips, rosy cheeks, perfectly shaped brows and just over all supermodel looks. He body was curvy, the outfit she was wearing showing of those curves.

She was wearing pale green pumps, tan jeans, a pastel green blouse, a white, tan and brown scarf, a big tan coat, that reached just below her thighs, white ear rings and her trade mark white purse.

"Max, please slow down,"

I turned to her and saw the tears in her eyes. It hurt me to see her like this.

"What Nudge?"

I asked softly.

"Can we please talk about this?"

I really didn't want to talk, but I didn't want to see her cry either. Damn Bambi Eyes,

"Sure,"

She smiled sadly and we sat down on the park bench. It was just across from the hospital and I had grown attached to the place. After sixteen years of wandering or wheeling out there during the night in nothing but my hospital gown, attached to UVIs, and IV cords, Ventilators and other things, sitting on this very bench, watching the stars, by myself, it's hard not grow attached to your only bit of freedom.

"Do the chemo,"

"Nudge, come on-"

"Max. It will help you,"

I muttered,

"They've been saying that for sixteen years Nudge,"

Nudge shook her head defiantly. She was getting angry already.

"It's kept you alive hasn't it!?"

"Yeah, okay Nudge, it has. I'll give you that. It's also taken my left leg. It's also come back for more. It's also made sure I can't live like a normal teenager. It's made sure I didn't get to celebrate my 21st birthday. It also made sure I never got to have my first kiss, my first time, my first boyfriend. I can't get a job. It made sure I couldn't go to both my parents funerals. Okay Nudge?! I missed my whole life."

Nudge wiped a stray tear from her cheek, making her mascara run a tiny bit. I felt bad, but she needed to hear it. Sixteen years makes a girl think, ya know?

"But it will help you,"

Her voice broke at will. I wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

"I know Nudge. But I wanna live a little before I die, ya know?"

"Don't say that,"

I squeezed her shoulder.

"It's gonna happen Nudge. It's inevitable. I've been cooped up in that hell hole-"

That got a snivelling giggle from her,

"-For too long. I wanna live. Drink some beer. Travel the world. Get laid!-"

She giggled again,

"-I wanna go places with you and the gang. I wanna get married. Have a kid. Drive a car. Steal some shit, ya know? And I want to do it with you guys,"

Nudge was bawling next to me.

"But I don't want you to get hurt,"

I scoffed. Nudge looked at me. I stood up on the bench and started screaming,

"Nudge! My sweet Princess! I am invincible! Nothing can destroy me!"

"Max get down!"

"Okay, okay, okay, I'm down! I am down!"

I looked at her. She looked at me. We were both smiling. Then I felt myself let out a shaky sigh.

"You're scared aren't you Max?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's gonna happen. I've known for a while. It's calmer then it used to be. But, I don't wanna die. Do I. I mean, sure, I'd like to be free from the cancer, but, I wanna stay. For you guys. I'm sick of you looking at me in hospital gowns and hooked up to drips and looking like shit. I'm sick of missing things."

We sat there for a while. Nudge reached over for my hand and I gripped hers gratefully.

"Don't do chemo Max,"

I lifted my head.

"Really?"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah,"

"Thank you Nudge,"

I leaned over and hugged her.

"We better tell the guys then,"

She whispered. I whispered back,

"Yeah. We should,"

"Okay come in whenever you feel like it."

I nodded. I was standing out the front of the apartment door. I could hear James telling some crazy, far fetched story, Jason cracking up at the stupidity and Angelica dancing to the music that was playing loudly.

Just another typical day in the Gang apartment.

Nudge waltzed in, quickly closing the door. I hear multiple, "Look what the cat dragged in!" And "Hey Nudge!" Also "What's shaking baby?!" Then Nudges laughter.

"Awwh, you know. Not much at all,"

"Is that so little miss almost model,"

"Yeah well whatever,"

Then silence as the music played. Hmm. Queen. Which so- oh cool. Don't Stop Me Now.

"How was Max?"

"Oh I don't know. We were talking to the doctors, but well you know Max, it was basically arguing and interrupting and he was so confused, so she wasn't really talking, I was talking, Max is good. Being her Maxie self. She was in her hospital gown and she was hooked up to a new drop, or is it drip, but any way the doctors asked her t-"

"Time to turn off the Nudge Channel,"

I said as I walked into the living room. The walls were painted in black, with white and purple swirls thanks to me. I painted them one time when the Whitecoats (that's what I call them) let me come home. We were renovating and I painted the walls. You can see flicks of colours for when we had a paint fight. The carpet was a light grey, mirroring the roof. The roof had a single shiny fake gold chandelier lighting the room. It wasn't a super fancy one, I know what your thinking, no. It was a cheap arse one from Bunnings. Then we had several lounges, all directed toward a fireplace. Each one was a different colour.

Blue for Jason, Green for James, Hot pink for Nudge, Vanilla for Angelica, Black for Fang and Purple for me. Then we had random couches and poofs and bean bags just lying around. And we didn't have a TV.

I know. You guys are a bunch of kids with nothing better to do, why no TV? None of us have ever like the TV's. We were old fashioned. We keep each other entertained anyway.

"Max!"

"No freakin way!"

"They let you out!?"

"OMG!"

"Hey Max,"

Y'all can guess who the last one was, can't ya? Nick.

"Iggy! Yes freakin way! Not exactly! Yay? Hey Fang,"

"What do you mean not exactly, Max?"

I scratched the back of my neck and sat down on my swivelly purple couch. I sighed and told them,

"You might want to sit down,"

They sat down, Nudge next to me. But not before she swivelled is around to face everyone.

"Go on Max,"

I sucked in a shaky breath and shook out my short hair. After the last chemo, my hair had grown considerably. It was now just shoulder length and had grown back curly. It was kind of annoying and I always had the itching feeling to hack it off with a knife.

"I'm stopping chemo, guys,"

Everything was silent for a while. It was actually quiet deafening. The only sound was the soft noise of Taylor Swifts voice in the back round singing,

"So you were never a saint,

And I loved the shades of wrong,

We learned to live with the pain,"

I couldn't take it,

"Well say something!?"

I cried out desperately. I knew this wasn't going to end well. Iggy spoke up,

"So, what your saying, is your stopping the stuff that helps you, from helping you?"

"Yeah,"

I was soon being yelled at.

"Why are you stopping chemo?! It's gonna help you! Max, shouldn't this be a group decision!? I mean we're your friends! You can't just-"

"Max, this is some messed up shit okay! Don't be stupid! Why are you stopping the fucking treatment!? This is insanity! I am throughly befuddled! What the literal fuck Max? Why are you-"

"Max? Are you serious? You can't be serious I mean. Seriously? Really? I-We-You, uh, you can't stop. We won't let you. I won't let you. Don't you dare Max. I can't believe-"

I felt tears come to my eyes. My friends were yelling at me, when I needed their support. What dicks.

"Okay,"

I got up and ran as fast as my prosthetic leg would take me. I ran into my room, hearing a faint,

"Good work guys. Inconsiderate,"

Then I heard stomping footsteps and a soft thumping at my door. I could hear the others mumbling outside in the living room.

"Max?"

I picked up the closest thing near me and chucked it at the door. Turns out it was my lamp, that I had successfully ripped from the wall, and it smashed, sending glass and plastic everywhere. I threw myself down onto my black doona cover, laying my head on my folded arms.

"Max?"

I could hear again.

"Go away,"

I mumbled weakly. Stupid arse took it as a way to get in. I heard the door creaking and leaned off the bed a little, grabbing the closest thing off the floor. I blindly threw it, roughly toward the door. I heard the door move slightly, then the thump as whatever I had thrown hit the wood of the door. Huh. One of Nudges heels.

The heck was it doing in my room?

"Max."

I heard him sigh. I felt a sob rack my body and I curled in a ball mumbling one last attempt,

"Go. Away."

"No,"

That did it. Out come the water works. The first tear escaped as the door lock clicked shut and locked. I felt the dip in the bed and a hand on my shoulder. I soon stopped crying and flipped over.

"How long?"

"Three years,"

"Treatment?"

"Five,"

"Well,"

"Well? Seriously? I'm gonna die and all you've got is 'Well'!?"

His onyx eyes looked down to the doona cover.

"What do you want me to say Max?"

I sighed and fiddled with my sock. We were sitting cross-legged from each other on my queen sized bed. His long legs folded in, his head in his hands, long black hair falling through his fingers and over them. He rubbed his olive toned hands roughly on his head and said,

"I just got told your gonna snuff it. What do you want me to say? Do the treatment? Live?"

His voice broke. No one would have noticed it. Not even the flock. But I did. I noticed. I grabbed his face in both my hands and forced him to look at me. His black endless eyes stared back, a bit blurry and filled with sadness.

"No. Don't do that. Don't say things like that. You don't get to say those things Fang."

I pulled him against me. His head resting in the crook of my neck. I breathed in his Fang smell. The smell I had grown accustomed to so easily. He would sit next to me, hold my hand after every surgery. No matter how big, or tiny, it was always Fang.

"But you can?"

"Of course I can. It's my freakin' death. I can say whatever the hell I like, so. Fuck you,"

His lip tipped up. His equivalent of laughter. I smiled proudly and wrapped my arms around his neck. He lifted me up onto his lap. I put my legs around him, linking my ankles at his back. He wrapped his arms around my waist, somehow, pulling me closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder, lips gently brushing his neck. I heard him sigh and pull me closer.

"Why aren't you guys supportive?"

"I don't know Max. You just ran outta there. No explanation,"

I sighed and buried my head deeper into his shoulder. He sighed and squeezed me. I pulled back. He gave me a confused look. Well, as confused as he can look. Basically a slight rise in an eyebrow. I pushed him down, feeling his hands go to my hips as he laid down. He looked up at me. I was straddling him, my hands on his chest, his hands on my hips. To anyone it would have looked like a sexual position, but it wasn't.

I slid my hands up to his shoulders and gently pushed down. I swung my body over his, so I was lying next to him, on the left, on my side. He wrapped his left arm under me. I put my right hand in his left, making a sort of cocoon around me. My left arm went over his abdomen and connected with his right hand, my head rested on his chest.

We lay like that for sometime, just whispering to each other. Talking about useless things.

"How can you not like Luke?"

"I do. You can't not. But I don't know, he sucked in the first movie,"

"So?"

"So, I feel he should be more awesome,"

"Oh come on, seriously!? He only just got told about Jedi's, of course he sucks, he's not gonna be super awesome at first. That and he's really hot,"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"What doesn't it have to do with?"

He seemed to think,

"A lot,"

"Come on. Have you seen his arms in the second one!? They are huge. Disappointed that there wasn't a shirtless scene of him. He wears to much sleeves,"

"What do you mean?"

"We barely ever see his arms. He always wears long sleeves,"

"True,"

We sat in silence.

"He couldn't beat Leia though,"

"What?"

"Leia's hotter,"

"Of course she is, your a dude,"

"Yeah. But she is hotter than him,"

"Seriously? Fang, come on, she's whiny and demanding. And has two very hot guys going after her,"

"Yeah but ones her-"

"Details, details. Whiny. Demanding. I rest my case,"

He chuckled softly. I felt his chest vibrate and hear the rumbling against my ear. I loved that sound.

"Whatever,"

Everything went silent. A comfortable silence, don't get me wrong. It normally ended like this. Then he muttered he four, magic words,

"You're scared, aren't you?"

I didn't answer. He twisted in our embrace, breaking our hands contact . We were laying on our sides, his arms encircling my waist. I removed my arms from him and made to push away. He wasn't having any of it. In fact, he pulled me closer toward him. Trapping my hands against his chest. Damn him and his knowing me too well-ness.

A particular button on his shirt had become particularly fascinating in the past minute and a half. It was black, (shocker) and had four small holes. The holes were filled with black thread, top left, bottom right, top right, bottom left, top left, bottom right, and so on and so forth. I stared at the button, watching it's dull shine as the light caught it at different angles, moving with his breath.

I was staring so intently at that little black button, I hadn't noticed an arm be removed from my waist. I hadn't notice it travel up my side. And I only just noticed it catch my chin, forcing me to look up.

Once more, although I had had enough of this, not really, I actually quite loved it, I was lost in his stupid onyx eyes. And their stupid little silver flecks, like stupid little stars, in his stupid little sky like orbs. Stupid eyes. Stupid him. Stupid Fang.

"It's okay Max,"

I ripped from his stupid grip, pushing away, so hard I fell off the bed. I got up gracefully (lies) and said,

"It's not okay! God Dammit! It's not okay! It's not alright! It will never be okay! I have you guys to look after. I have people to take care of!"

I said. Scratch that. Screamed. I was pacing the room angrily. Fang watching me.

"I have done nothing but fight! Nothing but defy! I haven't let this stupid cancer stop me! So why is it now!? Why give me freaking false hope!? Why let me think I'm fine!? Fang! It's not okay, okay!? I am going to die!"

I screamed loudly. I picked up -God knows what- and threw it angrily to the cupboard. It went and smashed to a bunch of little clay pieces. It was a vase. Nice. What the holy mother of all things lovely, was that doing in my freaking room?!

"I know you know Fang! I was gonna die sooner or later! Apparently sooner, rather than later! I am going to snuff it! Bite the dust! Blow the fuse!"

He stood up. Walking toward me.

"I'm gonna croak! I'm gonna fall off my bloody perch! Imma fade away!"

He held his arms out, wrapping them around my sobbing, screaming body.

"I will kick that fucking bucket! I'm gonna sleep with the fishes! Take a nice dirt nap!"

He pressed me to his hard chest. I grabbed his shirt, balling it up in my fists, smashing my face into his chest.

"I will cease to exist! Dance my last dance. Get my wings,"

I had barely whispered the last one. He patted my back. Holding me to him. Just holding me. I sobbed violently into his chest. He was so warm. So comforting. So Fang.

"It will be alright,"

I ripped from his grasp, pushing him so hard he stumbles, which, might I add, is quite hard to do.

"No it won't! Is it that hard to get it through your thick skull!? Why do you insist that everything is fine, when clearly it's not!?"

"Because I have to Max!"

He was angry now. I was livid. I ran out the door, practically ripping it from its hinges. I pounded down the stairs to the kitchen. My ranting had made me thirsty. I grabbed out a glass, almost smashing it when I set it down. I violently opened the fridge, gripping the juice and throwing it to the bench. I stormed over pouring it just as Fang comes pounding into the kitchen.

I take a sip as he says,

"I have to,"

"You have to do you?"

I shout at him, slamming the glass down. A tiny crack appears in the bottom of the glass. A tiny stream of juice was now flowing out of the glass.

"Yes,"

I turn to him.

"Oh really?"

He visibly restrains himself from rolling his eyes, or slamming something. His fists are clenching and unclenching beside him. He's rigid. He's livid. And I get a little satisfaction of seeing him this way.

"Yes,"

He says calmly.

"Why?"

He doesn't answer. Just continues to glare at me. My hand continues to grip the glass. I am gripping it so hard I can actually feel all the little cracks forming.

"Why?"

I ask, letting my tone drip in venom, just the tiniest bit. His eyes widen slightly, as if scared. His eyes dart around the room, landing everywhere but me.

"Because,"

That's it. I grip the glass so hard and chuck it. Toward the dipshit. In mid air it smashes into tiny pieces, covering him in the shards. He shakes the glass of him and lunges toward me. I easily dodge him. I reach into another cupboard, grabbing a plate. I throw the plate at his head. He ducks just in time as it smashes into the wood cupboard behind him.

"That's a really suckish answer Fang,"

I say. I picked up a bowl this time, chucking it at his chest. He swiftly dodges, running around the kitchen island. But I know his motives. We both carefully dodge the ceramic shards littering the ground, running this way and that, slyly changing directions, speeding up where there are no shards.

I run past the knife block and we're back at a stand still. Me holding a knife. Him panting and gripping the island.

"It's better than the one I could give you,"

I narrow my eyes, giving him the famous Ride death stare. It's been in the family for forever. I have the satisfaction of seeing him flinch ever so slightly. I've grown up with the dickhead and he knows that the death stare isn't one to rival with.

His fingers are white on the bench. My knuckles are white, gripped around the knife, pointed dangerously at him.

"Oh really? Fangy boy, I think it's wise to answer me properly,"

I muttered darkly. I saw sweat break out on his forehead. He knows what I could do with this. My six months of remission, how pointless it was, I learnt self defence and always kept a knife on me. I learnt how to use it and had surprisingly scary accuracy.

"I can't,"

I began to swing the knife between two of my fingers threateningly. I swung it up and ran a finger down the blade.

Y'all are probably all wondering why I'm holding a knife and Fang seems okay (kinda) with it. When we fight. We go all out. All or nothing baby.

"And why is that Fang?"

I said dangerously. He gulped and said,

"You don't want me to answer that,"

I flung the knife, so fast, I didn't even realise I had thrown it. I looked and saw it had clipped his ear. I felt my hand go back for the knife block and one hand fly to my mouth. I never thought I'd actually throw it. I raised the knife to a stunned and slightly afraid Fang.

"Answer. Me,"

I whispered, more scared then intimidating. Fang slowly started walking toward me, hands out in the universal gesture for chill, almost as if I were a wild animal, capable of ripping out a throat or two. And I was. It scared me that he thought of me like that.

I felt my hand shaking violently as I held the knife.

My vision was becoming blurry.

I felt a sob, rack my chest.

I cried.

The knife was plucked from my hand.

Arms went around me.

I slumped into the body.

One arm around my waist, the other cradling my head.

My arms threw themselves around my holder.

"Because Max, I can't lose you."

My hold tightened on him. He was my life support, more than the actual machines were. He was my life support through surgery. He was my life support through living. He was my life support on this very decision. He will be my life support till the end. That sentence proved it.

He gripped me tighter as well.

I never thought I would say this.

But maybe.

Just maybe.

I was something.

To someone.

You're the last bone of my contention

That could break at any mention

You're the last wall that will stand tall

'Til the end of the world.

IMPORTANT

So that was the first chapter to Bucket List. All of my chapters are and will, be named after songs. So this one is called 'Hypocrates' and it's by Marina Diamandis, but as her stage name goes, Marina and the Diamonds. I am a major Diamond.

What Nudge is wearing is on my polyvore profile. My name is dagger13. It's under Nudges outfit 1

XD

Okay, but now onto less seriousnessessy jazz,

What is your favourite song at the moment and why?

Mine, at the moment, is, 'All Around Me' by Flyleaf.

Bless.

What bout you Fang?

Fang: 'Brother' by Matt Corby.

Good answer.

Max: Why am I dying?

Why not?

Max: That's not a real answer.

You're not a real answer.

Max: What?

Pardon?

Max: No seriously?

What seriously?

Max: I'M SO CONFUSED!?

I have that effect on people.

Two reviews and I'll update.

XD

Dagger out.


	2. Un-Break My Heart

**Oh mah Goodness! Thank you all so much for reviewing and helping me and other things. It means so much that you people have read it and liked it!**

 **ANYWHO. . .**

 **Welcome to the second chapter! Are you excited Fang?!**

 **Fang: *shrugs***

 **Well then. . . What about you Max?**

 **Max: When do we get to the cool bits?**

 **All in good time, my grasshopper.**

 **Max: Okay, sure.**

 **Iggy: ONWARDS!**

 **Where, in the name of all things colourful and loud, did you come from!?**

 **Un-Break My Heart**

 **3 Years Ago**

 **April 15, Year 2012**

I woke up.

I know.

So dramatic.

But normally I wake up with a pain in my chest, or my hip or something. But today?

Nothing.

I rolled out of bed.

Quite literally.

And crawled across the floor to my leg. It sat there next to my wheelchair and my crutches. To early in the morning to put my leg on. I'm still asleep technically. I sat up straightish, with my legs out in front of me. Well, leg. I opened the wheelchair up from its closed position. I spun it around, pulling myself up into it.

I looked around, rolling it around in circles looking for some pants. There they were. All the way over there. Next to my bed. Eh.

Too far.

Shrugging I wheeled myself out the door, skidding along the carpet. Yeah, I'm a little bit of a mad man on the wheels.

I rolled down the spiralling slope to down stairs. I was going way to fast, but I knew what I was doing. I get down the bottom, flying into the living room as a white, black, and blonde blur. I continued rolling into the kitchen. Stopping suddenly, I saw I wasn't alone in the kitchen. Fang stood there, pouring himself a glass of orange juice (eww). But that wasn't all.

God no.

He was shirtless.

And I almost died right there.

Okay I'm not gonna lie, Fang has a pretty good body. Perfectly toned back. Nice biceps.

Okay, okay, yes, it's wrong. I'm perving on my best friend. But if you were in my position, it's kinda hard not too, you would find.

"Like what you see?"

I scoffed as he turns around. Damn. Those are some nice abs.

"Maybe,"

I retorted. His eyes went from my eyes, down my neck, across my chest, over my stomach, grazing over my underwear and stopping on my legs. LEG! My missing leg stopped mid thigh. I called it the Stump, but Fang hated it when I called it that. I always wrapped the stupid thing in gauze so you didn't have to look at the ugly scarring on it. I raised an eyebrow.

"Why, you like what you see Fang?"

His eyes broke away from my tan legs and looked at my lightly pink face, into my ugly brown eyes. If I wasn't mistaken, his cheeks were tinted the tiniest bit pink as well. I couldn't be sure though, because just then he thought to speak.

"Maybe,"

Then he turned around to get his cup, taking a sip. He was barefoot, with dark Levi's riding low on his hips. He had a v shaped way, that his hips loped down and disappeared into his Levi's. He had an eight pack, that wasn't obvious but still there, if you looked. Which I wasn't. Looking that is. Then he had his rock hard chest, turning into perfectly curved shoulders, the size of a mack truck. Then they spread out making his biceps and arms and piano playing fingers. So yeah, Fang had an excellent body.

Damn God for giving me such a good looking best friend.

"Wheelchair?"

I shrugged, shaking myself out of the very wrong thoughts about my best friend.

"I was bored. I haven't used this thing in ages."

He nodded. I wheeled myself around to the kitchen. To the fridge, I opened it. Looked in it. Closed it. Wheeled self to pantry. Looked in. Closed door. Sighed.

"Nothing up to the Max Ride standards?"

I sighed, pulling my best disappointed face.

"Unfortunately not."

He gave a mock sympathetic look. We both said simultaneously,

"Gloria Jeans,"

Then we laughed silently, trying not to wake the others. He grabbed the handles of my wheelchair, pushing me up the ramp. He shoved me into my room telling me,

"As much as I appreciate it, I don't think the Gloria Jeans staff want to glimpse Max Rides rather pretty underwear,"

"Had a good look did ya Fang?"

I retorted. He snorted,

"Put some pants on Max,"

I poked my tongue out at him as he stalked of down the hall. I watched as his stupidly perfect body disappeared. I rolled into my room, grabbing my leg as I went. I pushed myself off the wheelchair, onto my big queen sized bed. Strapping the leg on, I pulled some skin coloured see through tights, to make my leg seem less fake. Pulling on a pair of ripped skinnies, a three quarter length light blue tank top that had the TMNT (The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) on it, then I put on my storm trooper necklace on. Pulling on a black hoodie that said,

"EXERCISE

...Ex..er...Cise

...Ex..ar..size

..Eggs..are..sides

...For...Bacon

BACON."

Then quickly pulling on my high top, beat up, converse, grabbing my phone, with the greatest case known to man, "I Speak Fluent Sarcasm" and some spare cash, I was ready to go, just as Fang barges in, pulling a black hoodie over his head that said,

"Nope." on it. We were ready to go.

Running through the rain and grey, we made it to our place.

Walking into Gloria Jeans, we were greeted with the dinging if the little bell, the strong aroma of coffee, the smell of old newspapers and books.

You walk in and the first question is, where do I sit? You have a huge selection of big comfy chairs that range from gothic to modern, comfy to hard, wood to iron, recliner or poofs, soft or scratchy. Clumps of mismatched furniture surrounded little coffee tables.

The coffee tables were covered in sugar spills, newspapers, napkins and loose change. Most were a dark wood.

The floors were a dark mocha coloured brown wood. Tiles toward the counter. With rugs placed in random corners and under chairs.

The walls were a dark wood, with coffee cups and kettles, glasses and spoons painted on the walls.

The counter had glass windows filled with cakes and treats.

God.

I love Gloria Jeans.

"Hi and what can I get you today?"

I pointed to Fang to go first.

"Umm, large, skim, cappuccino, half strength, extra hot,"

The lady behind the counter nodded, writing his order down. She visually pushed her chest out and began fluttering her lashes, 'flirtatiously', (look up: Has something annoying in both her eyes) and her voice go into a 'sexy' tone,

"Is that all,"

"Yeah, I'll let my _girl_ friend order please,"

I felt my eyebrows shoot up as his hand slid into mine. He looked at me, his eyes pleading to play along. I giggled like a girlfriend would. Her green eyes cut into me, but I ignored her. That death glare was about as scary as a kitten yawning, covered in a big pink blanket.

"Yeah, umm, I'll have a large, soy, ice chocolate, with extra whipped cream, thank you,"

While she tallied up the order, with a scowl, Fang yanked me to him, wrapping his arms around my waist. My eyes flew open as he pulled me into his embrace.

He put a twenty on the counter and said,

"Keep the change,"

Like they do in the movies.

I put my arms up around his neck, burying my fingers deep into his hair, pulling his face closer to mine. I whispered in his ear,

"Girlfriend eh?"

He chuckled.

"Yup,"

"My dear Fang, is that your way of asking me out?"

"You wish."

"Then what the hell was that?"

He sighed into my ear, causing me to shiver. His lips grazed my ear, making a jolt of electricity shoot down me. I giggled uncharacteristicly as he caught my ear lobe between his teeth. I couldn't help it, I gasped.

I now what your thinking. It was all for show. We do this a lot actually. He'll make me his 'girlfriend' and then we fake it out, holding hands, kissing cheeks. To run away from his crazy fan girls.

Apparently, he was up to nipping earlobes now.

"A way out?"

He asked. His breath fanning out against my neck as he nudged my collar bone with his nose.

"Oh really?"

He kissed my collarbone.

"Yeah,"

He breathed out. Was it me, or was his voice slightly shaky?

"Umm, order for the Rides?"

I pulled away, the warmth and, confusingly, thrills slowly dulling, the further I moved away. I pushed him away, but he grabbed my wrist, joining our hands together. I looked down then up at him, a small smile playing on my lips. He gives a grateful smile, that was mainly a twitch of the lips.

"Thank you,"

I grab my large ice chocolate. You know the chocolate stuff that they pour on coffees with the froth? Yeah, I covered the cream in the stuff. Then I squeezed caramel all over the chocolate covered cream. I stuffed a straw in the drink and took a sip.

Ohh sweet lord.

I moaned as Fang yanks me toward our corner.

"If only I could make you moan like that,"

He said. I punched him in the arm and he rubbed it, with a scowl on his face. I laughed at his childishness.

We sat down and I could here the bimbo behind the counter, with her fake boobs, artificial blonde hair and her too green eyes, huff and puff about us being together. I smirked.

"Good work Fang. She probably spat in this,"

I whispered, taking another sip. He chuckled and said,

"Yeah, but it's so worth it,"

He dragged out the so, adding a wink on the end. I glared at him. My heart did a stupid little flutter. Blame it on the cancer.

"No! You didn't!"

"Yeah I did!"

We both started laughing. I managed to get a sentence in, in between the laughs,

"What did she say?"

He turned serious. My chuckles died down with Fangs laughter.

"Fang, what's-"

"Yes,"

"-wrong? What?"

"Yes,"

"Yes what?"

He sighed, eyes avoiding mine.

"Yes. She said yes,"

My world stopped. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening. A crack of lightning sounded outside, illuminating the outside world. No one was out. You'd be crazy to be out in this weather.

"Excuse me,"

I practically launched from the seat and flew to the door. I roughly shoved the old guy that was coming in through the door, over, almost knocking him down. I ran out into the rain.

No. No. No. He couldn't have. No. No. No.

I kept running, drenched, even though I only just got out of the shop.

"Max!"

I ran faster. Dropping my ice chocolate, that mixed with the rain.

"Max!"

Shit. The voice was coming closer. I took a left, crossing the busy street. The red lights blurry through the rain. The red lights reflected off the roads, the yellow and white lights the brightest. The red turns green, the white fades.

I didn't stick around long enough to hear his pleas on the other side of the road. I took a left, a right, another right, a left, until I stood out the front of the hospital. That's what you get when you run blindly though I guess. It takes you wherever it wants to. I couldn't walk into the too white building, with its tests and cages, it's too clean smell and antiseptic. The smell of death.

I turned around and faced the drowned park. It's normal greenness a bleak green. I walked across the oddly deserted street.

I sat down on my bench, looking up at the black abyss.

I don't know how long I sat there. Staring at the sky. But I now lay along the top of the bench. Clothes saturated, tears gone, expressionless.

It could have been minutes. Seconds. I could have laid there, staring at the sky for hours. For all I knew it could have been days. It was an impossibly long time I knew. But the chill was only just getting to me. My sense of time was gone.

I didn't feel anything.

Not the fat drops that landed on my face.

Not the splintering wood beneath me.

I didn't see anything.

Not the flashing lights of cars passing.

Not the dull overly white light from the hospital across the street.

I only saw the black abyss above, crying above me.

It took over my tears.

It took over my feelings.

And I didn't care.

I didn't care if I died from hypothermia.

I didn't care if I laid there for days.

I didn't care about the fact that I was dying in three years.

I only cared about one thing.

I had lost it. Officially. I had lost it. I was lost. I had no clue where I was. How I'd get home. I wanted to be in that Gloria Jeans with him. Drinking our drinks. Making fun of the bimbo behind the counter. I wanted to laugh at ridiculous things. I wanted to be cancer free. I wanted to be brave.

But I didn't know why.

One thought swirled around in my head.

I closed my eyes, welcoming a new darkness. A new black. I wanted to sleep. This could, quite possibly be the worst day of my cancer filled life.

The day my best friend tells me he has a girlfriend.

A doctor.

A pretty doctor.

Set on saving the world.

But that wasn't what annoys me. Made me upset. No. This was much worse.

He

Was

Marrying

Her

 _Don't leave me in all this pain_

 _Don't leave me out in the rain_

 _Come back and bring back my smile_

 _Come and take these tears away_

 **Wow.**

 **That was sooooo unexpected.**

 **Fang: I thought this was a fax story?**

 **So did I.**

 **Max: Why am I so love sick?**

 **You're not. You're just depressed your best friend is marrying some evil bimbo.**

 **Max: So she's evil?**

 **On some level. . . Yes?**

 **Fang: Why am I marrying an evil bimbo?**

 **I DON'T KNOW! WHY NOT!? JUST READ THE STORY!**

 **Max: Do I know her?**

 **. . .**

 **Iggy: Unexpected.**

 **All nod in agreement.**

 **I actually didn't plan for that to happen. Writing gets the best and the worst of me. Any who, the song is 'Un-Break My Heart' by Toni Braxton.**

 **OOOH! Sorry for the shortity. :(**

 **Question. What is you favourite Italian Food?**

 **Mine is Margherita Pizza!**

 **ALSO!**

 **I just finished reading the Clockwork Princess, and I can not handle all the emotions. Will and then, uh, am, grr, ahh, blah, kuwbcihdebviejd, and ahem and the Epilogue and the Magister and Angels and just holly crap baskets filled with poop! I cried for a solid hour and a half. Can't deal.**

 **To everyone that has not read the TMI (The Mortal Instruments) or TID (The Infernal Devices) you're all insane!**

 **YOU** _NEED_ **TO READ IT!**

 **LIKE! NOW!**

 **Two reviews. I write.**

 **D:**


	3. Dear Darlin'

**Welcome to the next instalment of LETTERS OF A DYING GIRL. Why did I put it in all caps, you may ask? There is a perfectly good reason to, as I am led to believe.**

 **Iggy: Big headings attract more attention.**

 **Of course they do.**

 **Iggy: They do!**

 **Mmmhmm.**

 **Anyway. . .**

 **I just wanted to feature this review, that made my day when I read it. It was from NINJAAWESOME, and they said,**

 **I really like this story! If I review 10 times do we get 5 chapters? This story has the potential to be one of the best MR fanfics, I think it should be right up there with Diary Of A Lovesick Mutant. But are you really not going to make this a Fax fanfic? Reeeeeeeallly?**

 **Thank you for comparing me to the amazing story, Diary of A Lovesick Mutant. I seriously don't think it's that good. Anyway, thank you! an here's the thiiiirrrrddd? Chapter!?**

 **Dear Darlin'**

 **3 Years Ago**

 **April 15, Year 2012**

"Max?!"

BOOM! The rain started getting heavier. For a millisecond there was a white light beyond my eyelids.

"Max!"

Hands gripped my shoulders and I was roughly shaken to a sitting position. I shoved the hands off my shoulders and opened my eyes, glaring at the intruder of my thoughts.

"What the fuck are you doing in the rain Max?!"

He yelled at me. His black eyes cold and hard. I glared back at him, with just as much bite.

"Oh I don't know, what the fuck are you doing marrying a girl you've known for eight months!?"

He looked taken aback. But I was to livid to care. I was cold. I was wet. I was angry. And this seriously wasn't helping the whole depressed situation going on over here. I just wanted to go home, eat some cookies, watch the Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, curl up in bed and sleep forever. But nooooo. He wanted to taaaaalk.

Or should I say, marry a complete stranger.

"That is not fair,"

He argued back. I shoved him away, giving him a pointed look. I got up from the bench and started walking away from him.

"Max!"

I kept walking. Straight out of the park, past the hospital and so on. The rain was getting heavier by the minute, the world blurrier and wetter then before. Water was up to my ankles, sloshing about uncomfortably, but I plowed on, kicking water up angrily. Sending it spraying everywhere.

"Stop running Max!"

I kept walking.

"Not running dipshit!"

I hollered back. A lady with an umbrella walked busily passed, muttering to herself. I caught the end of her sentence,

"Willin' 'nuff ta be out in this wedda for ya love, he be a keeper."

I looked at her back stupidly as Fang caught up to me. I rolled my eyes groaning as he tried to talk.

"Max, stop being so stubborn. You haven't even met her,"

Silence. The best way to unnerve Fang is to be silent. Taking a leaf out of one of your books Fangles.

"Max please. I really like her and I just did it as a joke, but when she said yes I thought 'Why not?' I mean. Come on, I wouldn't mind marrying her. She's really pretty and nice and sweet. Please Max, just meet her."

Ignorance is bliss. Isn't that how the old saying goes? You ignore all the bad stuff and everything is better.

"Please Max,"

He asked a question. No answer. 3 months they'd been engaged. 8 months he's had her. No one thought to tell me? Ya know, the dying cancer patient that has nothing better to do? No? Oh well. It's not like this isn't one of the biggest things of my life.

My best friend's getting married. And I don't even know the slut.

"What do you want me to say Fang,"

I muttered darkly. We were coming onto our houses street. Both of us were drenched and cranky enough as it was. Now add the escalating fight and we were a tornado and a volcano. Him already on his spinning war path and me about to explode in burning destruction. Fang and I were complete opposites.

We pushed each other's buttons daily, seeing how far we could push each other, until one of us was shoved off the edge. The other, stupid enough to jump after the sorry ones ass. We would tumble down the cliff, pushing the other first, throwing punches, kicking feet, flailing arms and screaming bloody murder. Until we finally realise we're each other's parachutes. Then we would save each other, coming to the next level.

Until the next day.

But that's why we were so close. We knew what made each other tick. What we could do to piss the other off. What made us feel special. How to make the other feel better. All our weird fetishes. How to make the other feel. . . Nice. How to fight. What we could and couldn't say. We knew everything about the other. We never had any secrets.

Until today.

And that's what pushed us apart. We would throw punches to each other's gut. Pull out each other's hair. Slap the other till they were senseless. Scream until we were deaf. Rip out each other's throats.

But we would always come crawling back to each other.

Because we couldn't live without each other.

Until today apparently.

He had found someone.

Someone he could spend the rest of forever with.

Someone he couldn't live without.

And then he'd shove me out of the picture.

And let me fall.

But he wouldn't come diving after me.

Like he would.

He'd watch me fall.

Let me fall.

Watch me die without him.

Because I can't find someone who would want me.

The cancer reject.

I'd never find a new best friend.

I'd never find a partner.

And I'd die.

Alone.

I shoved the door open, ringing out my hair. Pulling off my jacket and throwing it over my shoulder, hitting Fang square in the face. He caught it and roughly threw it to the ground. Stepping over it he crossed the room to me, pushing me down onto the couch. His couch. Angel and Nudge looked at me with wide eyes, then turned to Fang. To whom I was glaring menacingly at.

"You told her?"

They said in unison. He nodded curtly, not moving his eyes from mine as he says,

"Yes. And she, is not taking it well,"

I opened my mouth to reply, when a voice that wasn't mine came popping out, sucking the word straight out of my mouth,

"Well duh Fang. Max is your best friend. And you kept this from her. That's a pretty dick move, even for you,"

I smirked at him, quickly turning it into a sneer. He glowered.

"Max, don't diss my fiancé, you haven't met her,"

"I'm not judging. I'm not a dick. Like you,"

I stood up, dodging his arm that was punctual on keeping me down. I ran up the stairs, Fang hot on my heels, yelling a string of profanities.

"Fiancé huh!? Barely the title of GIRLFRIEND!"

I yelled. Iggy and Gazzy were standing out the front of the bathroom and looked to me with a scared glance. The quickly scampered away as I threw myself into the bathroom, pulling the handle shut. As it was about to click, Fang begins pulling from the other side. I am caught by surprise, before using all my strength to shut the door completely, locking it.

Fang growls in frustration, kicking the door angrily.

"Max,"

He says in a warning tone. I'm so sick of this.

"You want to marry someone you barely know? Fine Fang! You do that! Spend the rest of your life with some doctor, while your EX-best friend sits here, drowning in despair because you're to dumb ass to realise she's dying. Waste your what little time that you have left with your EX-best friend! Because guess what Fang!? I'll be dead soon! And then you can forget about me! You can forget about your ever suffering EX-best friend-"

Okay, so I may be over reacting with the whole 'EX' best friend thing. But I wanted him to see my point!

"-who you have lied to for eight months! Who knows!? Maybe even longer then that! But you know what!? Go get married Fang! And then you can shove your dick up her ass happily until then! I'll meet her Fang. But I won't like her!"

Behind the wall, Fang was silent.

That's right dick-bitch, take it all in.

"I don't care if you wait until I die before you marry her and fuck her Fang, because in the end, you'll get your happy fucking ending. You'll get the family you always wanted. And what will I get!? Eternal misery. That's what. And I'll get what was meant to happen. A nice green lot, with a white head stone and the words "R.I.P. Maximum Ride. Died because of Cancer. Beloved family member and good friend to all. Had nasty roundhouse kick. Born 13-5-1993. Died blardy-blah-2015!" Rotting under eight feet of earth. In a nice black box. Ya know what Fang! See you in Hell!"

Then I hit my back against the wall, sliding down. That little rampage exhausted me. Okay. So perhaps I was the tiniest bit harsh.

Okay.

A lot harsh.

But he so deserved it.

I hear a soft whisper from behind me.

"Never forget you Max. Never replace you,"

Then sluggish footsteps, a thump and a click, as a door closed. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. My butt was numb and cold because of the tiles.

Getting up, I stripped my wet clothes off, (get your head out of the gutter!), and disregarded my leg. Hopping over to the shower, I flicked the handles on. After testing the water, (just scalding), I hopped in, pun not intended.

The room filled with steam as the boiling water massaged my tense arse muscles.

Doing the uh, necessary cleaning-ness.

I hobbled out, the stump moving around uselessly, looking for ground. Stupid.

I dried myself and looked in the mirror.

Maybe I overreacted.

Just a little bit.

Sure. I wanted Fang to be happy dandy, with a nice wife and fat and chubby little Fangs scurrying around, but I just didn't think it would happen so soon. He only really just met her. And I really don't know, why he didn't just tell her he was kidding and get it over with. Or at least tell me. Has he even told her he loves her?

DOES HE EVEN LOVE HER!?

Whoa. Calm down brain. There's no need to be that dramatic.

 _Maximum._

Oh joy! Voice is back.

 _Been a while my good friend._

But stupid Voice cut straight to the chase.

 _Don't let him do it._

 _What!? Marry the girl of his dreams!_

I could feel the voice rolling it's eyes. Ya know. If it had a body.

 _He doesn't really want too. He wants someone else._

I raised an eyebrow to the mirror.

 _Oh yeah? Whom?_

The voice talked in riddles.

 _Figure it out Maximum._

 _Voice!? Voice!_ Oh gee, I really need to see someone about it. Coz that'll look good on my record. Has voice in head. Crazy. I need to stop talking to myself. I'm crazy enough as it is. I just got out of-

OKAY. Stopping.

Y'all who just tuned in, the Voice is, well, what I would like to say is my subconscious, that likes to let me in on life changing ideas.

Yeah. So there's a random talking voice inside of my brain.

Next thing ya know, I'll be talking to a talking dog with wings.

Yep.

Definitely crazy.

Do any of you have the crazy houses phone number?

If you could just hand it to my manager, that'd be great.

Now I have an _imaginary_ manager.

Sign me up for crazy town.

Yeah I'm over reacting. Yep that's gotta be it.

Wrapping at towel around me, I slowly creeped out the door, checking the coast was clear. After determining that it was, I hurriedly hobbled out of there, slamming my door closed.

Throwing on some jammies, I flopped on my bed.

Closing my eyes, I started to drown in my sorrows. Finding my MP3, I turned it up, to extremely loud on the loud scale.

Huh.

Breathe by Flyleaf.

I lay like a starfish and let my one get away wash over me.

 _Music._

Music was great.

Theres always a song for whatever mood you're in.

If your sad there's ABBA's Slipping through my Fingers, Taylor Swift's Teardrops on my Guitar, or Cyndi Lauper's Time After Time.

If your angry there's Limp Bizkit's Break Stuff, Three Days Grace's I Hate Everything About You, or Green Day's Platypus.

There's always a song.

And right now.

All I needed was music.

Not lyrics.

Or words.

I just needed music.

The instruments to wash over me.

The melodies and harmonies to hypnotise me.

The voices to lull me to another world.

But I couldn't hide today.

It wouldn't completely take me away to its world.

I was stuck in this one because of one thought.

Why is he marrying her?

 **3 Years Ago**

 **April 16, Year 2012**

I woke up at sunset.

That's right, I had slept for _two_ days.

The golden colours shining in from my window. There's something so magical about waking up before twilight. On one side of the sky, the world is dark, just barely twinkling with stars. But on the other, it's an explosion.

I picked up an old notebook and pen from my desk, whilst a strapping on my leg.

I walk out to the slippery balcony, wrapping my hands around my bare arms. The thin t-shirt did nothing for the chill of the autumn wind. I stared out into the dipping sun. It was a mystical thing the sun.

It was never gone, but never here. It was always somewhere else to some one, and some where to some one. It did the same routine every day. Waking up. Drifting through the day. Going to bed. But it never really went to bed, did it? And it never truly 'woke' up, did it?

I guess we'll never know.

Guess it was a nocturnal week.

I looked to the gutter, an idea jumping into my brain. Something I haven't done in a while. Jumping up to the railing, I held on to the gutter. With my strength, I hauled myself up onto the roof. I'd like to say I did it gracefully, but, I really didn't. I haven't done it since I was six. Before I got cancer.

Walking along the corrugated iron roof, I trumped along. I walked in a sort of rhythm. Thump, chink, thump, chink, thump chink.

They haven't takin it down. How sweet.

Hooking myself in, grabbing the handles and checking the rope, I swung off the roof. Into thin air.

I flew down off the roof, swinging in the wind. I flew through leaves, around trunks and up and over fallen trunks and branches. I had to bounce off fallen trees to get back up to go down, or climb trees to glide across. The smell of eucalyptus filled the air, along with dirt and bird song. It wasn't pretty bird song. It was cockatoo song. The loud, unforgiving screeching they gave, made me feel at home.

Flying through the golden touched gum trees, I felt such a thrill.

This is what it would be like.

This is what flying would be like.

As my trip started nearing the ground, I got ready. I tensed my muscles and bent my legs. As my feet got near the ground, I threw them out and started running. My feet pounded across the leafy floor until I finally skidded to a stop. My legs had the burning tingling feeling you get after the adrenaline.

Gotta love it.

I walked the narrow path we had made, with little plastic tags, tied to branches. The track was a bit over grown and disused, but hey! It was still the old track to the creek.

The chill of the night was setting in as I made it to the valley. The trees opened up into a small opening, where the creek was its widest. There was a fallen tree across it, forming a little bridge. We actually called it the Bridge. The only thing was, it wasn't super safe. Sure it was huge, but it was slippery and wet most of the time.

Tonight the creek shone in the moonlight. It shimmered as mosquitoes danced along it. It flickered with the current. Tadpoles just noticeable swimming in the clean but dirty water. The banks were a mix of sand and stones and dirt. The water was filled with sharp twigs that stood out dangerously in the current.

The moon lit everything it touched in a new light. It shadowed the world it wasn't touching in a shroud of dense black.

Sighing, I sat on the Bridge. Staring at the water. I wish it could wash away my sadness. My mother told me before she died that when your sad, you should sing. She would always sing to me when she was sad. So I sung. I sung to nature because it was the only one that would listen to my reasoning.

I'm not gonna say what song I sang, because if I did that, you'd have to know the sentimental value and I'm way too lazy to explain it now. Sorry.

I only noticed the tears when they were falling.

I won't have a best friend for much longer.

He'll marry some girl, who'll become his life.

His meaning.

His reason.

His world.

And I'd lose mine.

My meaning.

My reason.

My world.

My life.

It was too late to make him change his mind, I knew that. I was just gonna have to meet her and accept her. But I needed to talk to Fang first. I stood up and started walking toward the base of the Bridge. Leaping off with a soft thud and crinkling noise as I crushed the dead leaves. I began walking when I suddenly heard a rustling.

I stopped dead.

My ears picked up every little crunch and rustle.

My eyes scanned everywhere.

The ground. The bushes. The tree tops. Even the creek.

They were here.

They knew I'd gotten out of hospital.

They knew they could get me.

Now that no one was gonna see.

I needed to get home.

Crouching low, I began slowly walking across the field. My eyes watching everything. I felt like a spy in a movie. Like James Bond! Or. . . I don't really know any more spies. Awkward. I got near five metres from the bushes and I sprinted.

Into a tree.

That tree wasn't there five seconds ago.

It wasn't a tree.

My heart rate picked up and my survival instincts kicked in.

Hands wrapped around my bare arms.

Familiar hands.

Rough and calloused.

But soft and smooth at the same time.

Fang.

I sighed in relief and annoyance. I shoved him away.

"What's with the spy sneaking?"

I just shot him a glare. He sighed.

"Listen Max, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so blunt. Or so rude but I just felt like-"

"Shut up. Why the Fuck are you sorry?"

He looked taken aback. What? May as well get to the point. Thought ya knew me better than that Fangles.

"I've been thinking Max. . . And your right,"

I scoffed.

"I'm always right. But what am I right about now?"

He sighed, exasperated. I seem to have that effect on people.

"Me and the fiancé. It was too early to rush into things. I know how it must look. I'm sorry-"

"Hold the fuck up."

He blinked. We had started walking back to the Bridge. Once we reached it, we sat down, a metre away from each other.

"So you want to say sorry?"

He nodded.

"To. . . Me?"

He nodded again.

"After I, blew up in your face?"

He nodded again.

"No Fang. I overreacted, I shouldn't have blown up like that. Your a big boy, you can make your own decisions. And I need to grow up. You need to have your life. And have a wife and a family and I don't know. . . And I shouldn't deprive you of that."

He just stared off into the distance. I knew he was listening, coz his hand was twitching.

"I guess. . . I just got Stockholm Syndrome."

He looked at me confused.

"Isn't that where a kidnapper beats the shit out of a person, but the person loves them anyway?"

I sighed. Rolled my eyes and my neck and looked him dead on.

"It's when someone feels the need to protect someone that has been, not the best or, sick, twisted, confused. And the victim feels empathy and sympathy toward their capture and defends them when confronted. You've been around so long Fang. It feels like the reverse for me. Like your the victim and I'm the capture."

"Max, you're not a-"

"I know okay?! I know. But. You've been around me for so long. I've kept you around me so long, I feel like I can't lose you. I feel I have to protect you from the outside world, in some sick way. I feel like your mine. Like now I've kidnapped you, you won't ever leave me. But now you've been kidnapped by someone else.

And I've been exposed. And I have to say what I did with you, what I've done with you and now your free. And now I have to share. But I don't want to share you Fang. I have to deal with it and how I feel about it. But I want to keep you with me. But I can't. Because I'm no good for you. I'm no good for you Fang,"

He was silent. Looking down at his lap. I stared out at the water the moment his intense gaze was set on me. I could feel his eyes blazing holes in my skin everywhere the looked. I couldn't look at him.

"So yes Fang. I'm not a kidnapper. Or capture. But I feel like one. We have a Stockholm Syndrome relationship. I have Stockholm Syndrome. About us. Fang-"

I looked him in the eye, and I knew he knew what I meant. I knew he knew, because I knew what he knew. He could see it in my eyes. He was the only one that knew about the depression. The anxiety. He could see the sadness shine through now.

"-I don't want to share you,"

Was all I whispered back. His eyes had barely changes. The black became soft, filled with despair and something I couldn't read. He reached out an arm, brushing his fingers along my cheek.

Somehow I had managed to get onto his lap, with my hands around his neck, my legs straddling his lap, my nose nuzzling his jaw. He had his hands gripping my waist, his throat bare to my nuzzling and his eyes closed contentedly.

I pressed a kiss to his jaw, my lips grazing his neck as I asked,

"What's she like?"

I felt him tense, ever so slightly. He sighed as my lips pressed against the side of his neck again.

"Umm, she's nice. Pretty. Intelligent. What more could you want? She's from Russia, so she has a thick accent. She's kinda small, like Angel sized, maybe a bit taller? I don't know. But I like her. Max, I want you to like her too."

He trailed off. I sighed.

"What if I don't like her?"

He tensed again. I knew I was pushing him to his limit, but I was truly curious.

"Then I won't,"

"Won't what?"

"Marry her,"

"What!?"

I pulled back, almost tipping us off the Bridge. He looked confused. I shoved myself off him, bolting to the other side of the old Bridge. Fang was hot on my heels.

"You can't just not marry her Fang!"

I shouted to no one in particular. Quite frankly, his idiocy has left me forgetting his existence. A little game I played.

"Yes I can Max. I want your approval."

I screamed frustrated into the sky.

"He says, he says, he, wants MY, approval!? What am I!? A father from the 1700's!?"

He growled

"Max,"

"I wonder what Fang is thinking right about now, hmm?"

I started spinning around, making wild gestures and pacing. My leg was killing me, after all I was only out for a few days.

"That this could be wrong?"

He growled.

"That in his haste to get married he forgot of his best friends early biting of the dust?"

He sucked in a breath of air.

"Max,"

I didn't answer him. Ya know what. Fuck him. He can get married. I don't care. But what I do care about is my best friend- whom, might I add was being a total jerk faced-dick - that I want back.

"Sorry."

He sighed, anger deflating. He tentatively wrapped his arms around me, effectively buring my head into his shoulder.

I finally realised the chill.

Then the walk.

So I made a quick decision.

"I think I'll stay here tonight,"

I whispered.

"Max, you can't-"

"I can and I will. I need a bit of time to cool off and so do you,"

He went to speak, but my pointed look cut him off.

"Noc week?"

"Noc week,"

I replied. Yawning he said.

"Fine, but don't come crawling to me with hypothermia,"

He said as he backed into the trees.

"Wouldn't dream of it,"

I called over to him. He smiled and with a curt nod, disappearing into the trees.

Damn him.

I wish I brought my phone.

I could be listening to We The Kings or My Chemical Romance.

Insert disappointed face.

So Fang was getting married. I think I'll just have to meet her, before I can make assumptions about her Gold Digger-ness.

All of you people who are probably very confused, Fangs parents were world renown authors, writing dozens of books, each one becoming #1 Best Sellers.

His dad was Harlem Ride and he wrote two series, each with six books, action/sci-fi/fantasy/adventure novels, with the occasional romance novel or two.

His mum, Mally Ride, was the number one sad romance novel creator, in the world. She made me cry. Me! Every Time! She wrote some sad arse shit.

So yeah, when they died, all their money, *cough* tens of millions *cough*, went to their only child, ahem, Fang.

Hence the gold diggers that threw themselves at Fang because of that.

Also his supermodel looks.

Not that that matters.

But it probably does.

Ugh.

Shoot me standing.

He's getting married. And he'll leave me, in my final years of life, with the girl of his dreams.

Cue the depression settlement.

Cue the sudden urge to throw myself in the creek and drown.

Cue the sudden urge to drink the probably lethal ink and be poisoned.

Cue the sudden urge to stab the pen through my heart.

Cue the urge to scrape my arm across the sharp stones in the water.

Cue the urge to see the blood flow.

Cue the words.

Cue the beginning to my very first letter to him.

 _Dear Darlin'_

 _Please excuse my writing_

 _I can't stop my hands from shaking_

 _Cause I'm cold and alone tonight_

 **Poor Max.**

 **Max: Fangs a real dick isn't he. He's marrying some random and left me in a shirt in the cold.**

 **Mmm hmm**

 **Fang: Right here.**

 **Max and Me: Don't care.**

 **Fang: *Grunts In Annoyance***

 **Hey, it's not my fault you're how you are.**

 **Fang: Technically-**

 **-Technically I don't care.**

 **Iggy: Plain old rude you are, Fang.**

 **Fang: *Walks Away***

 **Iggy: Review?**

 **This was 15 CHAPTERS ON WORD!?**


	4. Girls Night Out

**There is this little bug. And it is flying around me. As I'm trying to write. It's inconvenient. And driving me a tiny bit insane.**

 **Max: More insane then usual?**

 **Silence Pheasant!**

 **Max: Well that was-**

 **SILENCE!**

 **Max: *Holds hands up in surrender***

 **That's right citizen. Do the disclaimer!**

 **Max: *Motions the fact she can't speak***

 **Speak!**

 **Max: I think we all know Dagger here doesn't own MR.**

 **Say why.**

 **Max: *Sighs* Because, if so, Dylan, Brigid and Lissa wouldn't be in the story and Fang never would have left like he did.**

 **Exactly.**

 **I know Max is a little (A LOT) self centred and selfish in this story, but it shows her journey through that. I mean guys, she's had cancer for the past SIXTEEN years of her life. She aught to be just the tiniest bit, am I right?**

 **TO THE STORY!**

 **Girls Night Out**

 **3 Years ago**

 **April 18** **, Year 2012**

Tonight I was having a 'Sleep Over' with the girls. Even though we're practically sleeping next to each other.

My friends are so weird.

Three and a half years ago, the Gang put their money together and bought a six story, abandoned apartment building, just outside the city, made a complete Reno, and badda-boom! The gorgeousness of our home.

The first floor was our game room. We had a big flat screen TV, for video games, a football table, air hockey, pool, big fluffy couches, snack bar and bar fridge, that was always stocked and a closed off section that had a toilet and a basin. It was painted in reds and oranges and golds, and we had painted our names on a single wall. From my graffiti writing to Gazzy's spider writing and Angels cursive, Iggy's sloping font, Nudges Broadway style and Fangs all caps. We even had Ella's name on there. It really was beautiful.

Next floor was the boys rooms. It was literally four rooms. In each corner were walls and doors, with just a bed in them. Along the left wall was where the spiral stairs and ramp were. Beside the stairs were the wardrobes. Three wardrobes, for the three boys. Then in the middle was just random stuff.

Footballs, a baseball bat, Iggy and Gazzy's bomb stuff for their military jobs, Fangs bass, electric and acoustic guitars, a drum kit, Twister, battleship, one of Nudges shoes, deodorant and cologne, clothes, game consoles and their flat screen LED TV.

Typical boys apartment.

The walls were painted a deep blue, the carpets black and the ceiling a soft green. There was pictures of their footy teams, (Swans, Bombers and Lions) along with hot rods and muscle cars, baseball players, (Babe Ruth), Dragsters and signed jerseys and guitars. Hanging up. It was actually pretty great.

The next floor was the bathroom, dining room and kitchen area. The bathroom took up a quarter of the floor and was tiled. There was a bath, a shower, a basin, a toilet and a marble bench, covered in the girls make up, hair products, razor, wax and God knows what else. Also the boys cologne, aftershave, razors and that's about it. Toothbrushes. It was always a mess. No matter how much we attempted to clean it.

The kitchen was modern, equipped with all the boring kitchen stuff, marble benches, a sink, but most importantly, FOOD!

The dining room was plain and simple. Wooden chairs, wooden table, Bunnings Chandelier, dark wood floor, a bunch of lamps and a fireplace.

The next floor, floor four, was our room, the girls. The roof was painted white, ,the walls an electric purple and the carpet a light pink. Guh. We had a wall separating the common bit from our rooms, unlike the boys, we shared bedroom space. It took up about a third of the floor. We had three queen beds, pushed up against the wall.

Each had a different coloured doona.

Angels was white and had swirls all over it, in different coloured pinks. The frame of the bed was dark and wooden. Nudges was hot pink, covered in sequins and glitter. Cue the shudder. The frame was black and was very modern, with little shelves that came out of it. My doona was black, with white paint splatters all over it. My frame was purple fancy wrought iron bed head and legs.

Then there was a vanity table on Angel's third.

You know those vanity tables in the movies, or Broadway, with the little light bulbs and the mirrors covered in pictures. Yeah. Looks a lot like that.

It was covered with all the girls' make up shit.

In our common area, there was a single wall, that went about, eight metres from the wall that separates our bed rooms, and two metres across. A bit like this:

Bedroom. | Common Area

Where the little wall is, is our three closets lined up. All made of dark wood. On the either wall was a shoe rack, holding, like a billion of Angels shoes, a Gazillion of Nudges and, like, eight of mine.

Ridiculous.

I know.

Then in out common bit was a Plasma, Xbox, wii, big couches that you sink in to, my guitar, Angels disco floor, Nudges shoe appreciation, (I don't even know), a long table underneath the TV, that stretches to each wall, where we dump all our going out shit, three chargers and other girly shit.

Who knows what you could find in there.

Floor five was the living room, like we've already been in there before, so let's skip me repeating mah self.

And fifth floor was used for whatever. In one corner, we had a little stage, for the guys to practice playing in their band. One wall was covered in mirrors and had a bar stretching across it for Angel to dance. The other corner had Nudges fashion station, where she created her own dresses and styles. And in another corner we had my stand up easel and paints, set up on a little sloping desk, that was in a corner made entirely of windows. It was beautiful to capture sunsets. You could see the farming land, around the busy city of Melbourne. We lived far away enough to escape the noise and bustle, but close enough to get there in under thirty minutes. I wouldn't live anywhere else.

Wow.

Felt like Nudge there.

Let's keep it to a minimum of eleven words.

So, any way, currently we were shopping for our little 'Sleep Over'. The boys were bugging us, non stop about what we were gonna do.

We told them girl stuff.

They said you can tell us.

We said we wanted them out of the house.

They asked why.

And we said that we needed the whole house to ourselves to do what we wanted.

They left it at that.

SCORE!

"Max! What about this!?"

Nudge threw something from down the aisle at me. I caught it, before it hit some poor unsuspecting old woman. She jumped about a foot in the air, then took off running. Nudge called back.

"Oops! Mah Bad!"

I looked at what she threw me. A tub of ice creamy goodness. I threw it back,

"Heads up!"

She caught it swiftly, eyebrow raised.

"Hell Yes Baby!"

I called to her, pumping my fist up and down. She laughed and danced a little bit. Hey where's-

"Yo! Where Angel at!?"

"No clue! She said she'd be here!"

Ten seconds later we see blonde curls speeding around my corner, stopping right next to me and puffing.

"I'm here! I got the Smiths, the cookies, the M&Ms, the Tim Tams, the Chocolate Milk, the Twisties, the Juice, the Marshmallows, the salsa, cream, cake, sour cream, avo, Doritos, and the popcorn."

I jumped in the trolley, throwing my legs out to the side, leaning on the apple juice and milk.

"Go baby! You forgot the Sour Skittles and War Heads!"

She began running, pushing me and the trolley. She lifted herself up and we glided toward Nudge. Nudge caught us, spun us in the right direction then sat up the front. We glided, Nudge yelling out to people to get out of the way, me yelling in delight at the havoc and Angel going 'AHHH' every time we almost hit something, or someone.

"RIGHT!"

We leaned right as Angel swung the back around, making us almost hit the Cheezel pyramid.

"STOP!"

They looked at me. I reached over to the left and grabbed three boxes of Cheezels, then leaned left and grabbed two boxes of every shape kind there was.

"Right! ONWARD!"

They laughed at me and Angel pushed us past all the lollies. Each of us reached out blindly, grabbing whatever our hands struck.

I grabbed the War Heads, Starburst lollie pops and a packet of Cherry Ripes. Guh! I threw them over my shoulder and shuddered involuntarily. Cherry Ripes were feral. Uuuhh

Nudge had got the Skittles and four different magazines, including Total Girl, Girlfriend, Cosmo and New Idea.

Angel was holding Jelly Bellies, Chiko's and some Allens snakes.

We were set.

"That comes to a total of $153.76. Will you be paying cash? or card?"

She had a sickly sweet smile, with too straight teeth and way too much cleavage. Nudge smiled, pulling out her credit card. I was still sitting in the trolley, when the woman turned to me.

"Miss, you need to get out of the shopping trolley,"

I smiled at her and leant up to pull my trackie leg up. One look at the metal and steel, instead of skin and flesh and her smile faded.

"Sorry. I'm disabled. I'll get out. If you want,"

I made to get up but she told me it was no big deal and that I could stay down. I smiled at her kindly. Yeah that's right.

Stupid bitch.

I went back to my lollie pop sucking and nail inspecting.

Then we were moving.

"Mm, gurl, you put that fake bitch in her place,"

Nudge high fives me from the front seat. I smile, munching on some skittles.

"Hey! Don't eat those Max!"

"Sozz Ange, hungry ya know?"

She mumbles something along the lines of, 'When aren't you hungry?' I slap her upside the head.

"That was rude!"

She shouts playfully.

"CRY ME, A RIVVVEEEEERRRRRRRRR!"

I shout loudly, in my best-man-slash-opera-singer voice. The girls giggle and I grin.

"You're crazy Max!"

Angel shouts.

I take a bow and they start clapping.

"Oh, gurl! This is mah Jam!"

I grin as she blasts the radio. Hey! I know this song!

So we do the only thing a twenty one year old, a twenty year old and a nineteen year old can do.

Scream the lyrics at the top of our lungs, be as theatrical as possible, and be crazy.

Things we all excel at.

" _I'M AT A PAYPHONE,_

 _TRYING' TO CALL HOME,_

 _ALL OF THE CHANGE I SPENT ON YOU._

 _WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE,_

 _BABY ITS ALL WRONG,_

 _WHERE WERE THE PLANS WE MADE FOR TWO?"_

We were laughing and singing, just having fun. When we got out of the car, we continued the song, pulling out billions of bags from the boot.

 _"IF HAPY EVER AFTER DID EXSIST,_

 _I WOULD STILL BE HOLDING YOU LIKE THIS_.

 _ALL THOSE FAIRY TALES ARE FULL OF SHIT,_

 _ONE MORE FUCKING LOVE SONG, I'LL BE SICK."_

We ran into the building, screaming all the way up the stairs. Putting the cold stuff in the fridge, we flung ourselves into our room, throwing our junk food on the table. We set it out then we had some fun.

Soon I had hooked up my iPhone to our speakers and then I was playing music. Loudly.

"Okay, what song?"

I asked. The girls looked at each other and smiled,

"Hell no. Ain't no Justin Bieber,"

They made puking gestures and gagging sounds. I wiped my dry eyes. I taught them so well.

"Ummm, what about. . . Thrift Shop?"

"Yeah! Thrift Shop!"

I smiled and scrolled on my iPhone. Okay. . . Thrift Shop, Thrift Shop, Thrift Shop. . . Ah Ha!

" _I'm gonna pop some tags_

Only got twenty dollars in my pocket

I - I - I'm hunting, looking for a come-up

 _This is fucking awesome,"_

The girls started dancing, I stuffed my face with chips. They were really getting into it.

"Come dance Max!"

"Yeah! Please!?"

They shouted over the music. I laughed as they started to sing, Angel doing the cowboy-rope-lasso dance, Nudge beckoning me, in all her black girl glory, shaking her booty, the only way that black girls can.

I rolled my eyes and hopped up.

You know in movies, how girls jump up and down on couches and throw their hands in the air, screaming lyrics to songs and looking like fools?

Yeah.

We all do.

That's what we look like.

And trust me.

It's way more fun then it looks like in the movies.

"MAX! CHUCK US THE CHIPS!"

I jumped over to the chip bag, throwing it to Angel. She caught it swiftly and tore into it, like a starving lion.

I was actually disturbed.

Pff. . .

NAH!

" _On the other side of the street I knew,_

 _A girl that looked like you_

 _I guess that's déjà vu_

 _But I thought this can't be true_ ,"

And suddenly, we were dancing again. Soon I was being dragged into our room and we were changing into some random outfits.

Nudge was in a black, lacey crop top, dark blue business lady pants, six inch black pumps, a swirling blue scarf, that she had tied in a bow around her neck and a tan cowboy hat.

Angel was in a black, turtle neck, sleeveless shirt, with a skirt with the print of space on it, fluffy ugg boots, cheetah/leopard print, with big black bows on the front of them, heart shaped sunny's and a space themed cap.

I was (Forced) in a white and black bikini style shirt, a tan leather jacket draped on my shoulders, black leggings, black boots, with a flower pattern on the side, a scarf similar to the boots and a bag, that said,

'My other bag is Chanel'

Clever, I know.

We were back out dancing, Nudge I don't know how. There was a new song playing and I'm pretty sure it was Somebody that I used to know, by Gotye and some chick. Kimmy? Karla? Kim. . . KIMBRA!

I looked at Angel as Kimbra stared singing. Angel raised her eyebrows as I started walking, slowly and dramatically toward her.

" _Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over,"_

Angel laughed as I dramatically pulled my hand out toward her, 'sadly' bringing it back to me. Nudge was laughing her arse of, but my face remained straight.

Mostly.

" _Havin me believin it was always something that I'd done_ ,"

I batted my eyelashes and began walking around her, grabbing a stray curl and placing it behind her ear. Angel couldn't stop giggling and I think Nudge was dying from laughter.

" _And I don't wanna live that way,_ "

I ripped away from the giggling Angel, placing a hand over my heart and a hand across my forehead.

" _Hanging on to every word you say,"_

I turned back, shaking a finger angrily in her direction. I couldn't help the slight grin that took over my 'stern' expression,

"You said that you could let it go,"

I stared deeply into her eyes.

"But I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know!"

And I turned around, sliding on my knees dramatically reaching into the sky. The other two girls were laughing hysterically, and soon, my laugh joined theirs.

We laughed for through Rihanna's ' _Diamonds_ ', Justin Bieber's ' _Boyfriend_ ' and started stopping during Cold Play's ' _Paradise'_.

"All that laughin has made me hungry darlin's,"

Nudge said, through her thick Southern accent. She sounded like a high class hillbilly. I loved it. Refreshing.

And funny when she attempted to do an Aussie accent.

Priceless.

"What do we eat?"

Angel asked, her little Irish accent, kicking in, just the tiniest bit.

It was strange. We were all from different parts of the world. Nudge from Louisiana, Angel and Gazzy from Ireland, Iggy from Russia, Fang from Italy and me from Australia, who spent four years, before the cancer, living in Germany. So I had a little German accent, that only shone through when I was angry, happy, surprised, sad, rage filled, depressed, confused, crazy, singing, joyous, murderous, scary and. . . That's about it. So basically.

Every emotion ever.

But only when I _REALLY_ felt it.

Somehow, on some crazy destiny, we had all come together.

We were about to decide, when the phone rang, suddenly. Angels phone.

"Hello?"

She paused.

"Mam? Yas Mam. . . Irish? Really? Máthair, tá mé le mo chairde! Ceart go leor. Ceart go leor! MAM!? Nach rá rudaí mar sin. Aon mháthair , nach bhfuil i dúirt sé leo go fóill. Mam. . ."

Oh yes. We were all fluent in our languages. It was crazy when we had dinners together. With our families.

Eventually she hung up, yelling in Irish, repeatedly saying 'Mam!' And 'What the-Sorry! I mean tá brón orainn!' Which I know means sorry.

She huffed angrily at her mother.

"She's crayzy! I swear it! I've neever meh a wooman ligh' tha' before in Irraland. I can' believe I am somehi relate' to tha'!"

"Chill Ange, she can-t be that diff-rent to me mom. That woman's a bloody hand full she is,"

"Oh! Bu' is yourr Mammy, is she a ba' outta haell? Cause' me Mam is!"

When Angel got flustered her accent came in full force.

It was adorable.

Then she swore in Irish.

"Come on, let's order some pizza."

I stated, getting up to go to the kitchen. The dancing made me hot, so I shrugged off the jacket, dropped the bag, and yanked off the scarf, while walking down the glass stairs.

Reaching for the phone, I heard the front door slam.

"NOOO!"

I whined. Nudge and Angel came down, both flicking their hair over their shoulders.

"What's wrong homie?"

"Yea? Wha's wrong Max?"

Then they heard the foot steps. They groaned as the foot steps came into the kitchen. They stopped talking to see us, full force glaring at them.

They all flinched.

"What?"

They stated together.

We looked at each other pointedly and began tapping our feet, in perfect time. They all cocked their heads to the side.

It felt like we were in a musical.

And we were all about to burst into song.

But we didn't.

Cause that'd be weird.

"Ya'll know why,"

Realisations seemed to hit them all at the same time. Iggy face palmed, Gazzy groaned and Fang simply blinked.

He was staring at me.

I gave him a weird look.

"What are you wearing Max?"

I looked down. Oh. Right. The bikini style top. I had to hide the slowly creeping embarrassment, as each boy stared at my bare stomach. Placing my hands on my cocked hips,

"What? You never seen skin before?"

They turned away, but Fang looked at me and smirked. Just enough for me to see. I glared back. His smirk disappeared.

I was still angry at him.

He sighed and said,

"Max. Talk?"

I shrugged, walking down the stairs.

"Listen okay, I'm sorry I didn't tell-"

"It's not that Fang. This is a girls night."

He sighed the seemed to think,

"Are you sure you're-"

"I'm fine! Okay? Peachy! Dandy! Okay. I'll be fine Fang. I'm not seven anymore. I'll be alright without you. Just. . . Chill, okay?"

He closed his eyes and went to say something else, but I beat him to it,

"And no, I'm not ready to forgive you. You're gonna have to do something really big to get you outta this,"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He opened his mouth to say something else, when we heard a very distinct War Scream and a frightened shriek.

Nudge was about to murder. . .?

Iggy.

Rolling my eyes I bolted up the stairs, feeling Fangs gaze on my bare midriff.

"Take a picture! It'll last longer!"

He started choking. I allowed a teeny second of satisfied smirking.

God,

I'm such an evil Bitch.

And what can I say?

I _enjoy_ it.

The smirk slipped off my face as I saw the scene that was unfolding.

Nudge was being held back, just barely, by Gaz and Ange. Trust the Angelic twins to come to the Devils rescue.

By the way, the devil, would be Iggy.

Nudge comes a close second.

At the moment.

And Iggy was up on one foot, arm thrown protectively over his head and the other holding a. . .

Spatula?

Really?

Jeez.

My friends are weird.

"Nudge chill."

"But he started it Max! He was being all Iggy, with his stupid sexual innuendos, and stupid facial expressions and his idiocy! And then he just came over here and was all like, "Hello, Ladies," and Angel was like, "Eww, no," and then he pinched my butt and it was like, ZOMG! What was he thinking!? The brainless Mule! Bless his heart if he thinkin that he gon get way with that with women in the real country! Why that two-faced, dick brained, wet mule, who's about as useful as titties on a bull! I swear to mah Mommas good lord, imma cut you into-"

"Nudge! Ficken! Was soll ich jetzt mit euch beiden zu tun? Gut? Immer am jeweils anderen kehlen! Scheiße-"

"Max-"

"Eins,"

"Here she goes,"

"Zwei,"

"Nudge, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that-"

"Drei,"

"-And it was wrong I'm super sorry,"

"Vier,"

"Yeah, I'm sorry for going all crazy southern on-"

"Fünf,"

"-ya. It's just, momma didn't raise no-"

"Sechs,"

"Princess. Sorry,"

"Sieben,"

Then as I said "Acht," they met in the middle and shook hands.

"GUTEN! Now, leave! Girls night! Boys out! Scadaddle!"

"But-"

"NnnnnnooooPPPPAAAHhh! Out! Scooch! Scram! Be gone Evil Spirits!"

Fang was only just walking up the stairs, but I was pushing a bunch of pre-adult and only just-legally-classified-adult down the stairs.

After much debating, a thrown shoes, some screaming and bunch of rude comments, the boys were gone, and us girls had our night back.

Okay. Ange looked uncomfortable and had a constant worrying look on her face. It was bugging me that something was bugging her and I'd rather it bugged us all then just bug her.

"Okay Ange, what's up?"

She was shaken out of her deep thoughts by my question. Currently, Nudge was painting her nails a classy shade of royal blue, to match her royally blue classy eyes. Nudge looked up at her hesitant and worried expression,

"Yeah, gurl, you been like dat most of da night. Some'en ain't right,"

Angel bit her plump pink lip. Whatever it was, it was really eating her up.

"You can tell us Ange,"

I say, putting down my magazine, with a blown up picture of Justin Bieber on the cover. Get me a bucket.

She sighed as I came and sat down next to her, hand on her arm. Nudge put the brush, back into the nail polish bottle, screw in it up tightly, crossing her legs and giving her full attention to Angel.

She mumbled something along the lines of

"Immabelsehnavabener,"

Which was extremely helpful in jibber land perhaps, but not so much on we-are-worried-about-our-best-friend-and-wanna-know-what's-up land.

"Come on Ange, it can't be that big of a deal. It's not like your pregnant with Justin Bieber's kids."

"I wish it was."

Nudge and I shared a quick look,

"Okay Ange, really, what's up?"

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes. As she exhaled I heard the words,

"I'm a lesbian,"

Keeping her eyes closed she shrunk back.

I blinked a few times and looked at Nudge. I had suspected it for a while actually. Had even talked to Nudge about it, in which she, 'totally thought something was way over happening in the shizam' whatever the hell that means.

Suddenly Nudge and I simultaneously began screaming. Nudge was screaming between her squeals and I was dancing.

Angel looked alarmed.

"You guys aren't, like, weirded out?"

She asked incredulously.

"What!? No! Never!"

"Ange we love you, nothin gon change that,"

Angel smiled, blindingly. I swear her teeth have built in light bulbs.

"Especially now, coz we get to help you find a chick to date,"

I said suggestively. A mortified look spread across her face. Nudge giggled and I snickered. She just scowled.

"Wait, how'd you know?"

She looked embarrassed. Scratching her neck she said,

"Remember when I was finishing up high school, how we played Truth or Dare?"

Nudge and I nodded,

"Remember how I had to kiss Ig?"

Nod. Nod. Nod,

"Yeah. Nothing happened. Felt nothing."

We sat in silence and thought.

DING-DONG

"PIZZA!"

Angel and Nudge began running down the spiral stairs, as I slid down the banister.

I opened the door, just as Angel and Nudge came barreling into me. We stood panting in front of him, staring hungrily at the six pizza boxes in his meaty hands.

After throwing a green hundred at him, which he fumbled to catch, I ran back up the stairs.

"Okay, Hawaiian and Americana, Nudge,"

"OH PRAISE THE LORD!"

Nudge screamed. She went to open her mouth again to rant, but we screamed no at her.

"You can blab for a full minute after we eat,"

She smiled and took a bite.

"The Lot and Avocado Obsession, Ange, our newest gay member,"

Ange slapped her forehead and roughly ripped the pizza out of my grip, sending an embarrassed glare my way.

"Just playing Ange. Margherita and BBQ Chicken for me. Bless,"

After Nudges rant, which I could hardly follow along with, we had settled on the couch, eating Skittles and pop corn and M&M's and Cookie Dough.

"What movie chickas?"

Nudge asked in a strange Mexican way.

"PRINCESS BRIDE!"

"Hell no, I can't do that right now. How about She's the Man?"

"ZOMG yes! OMG I haven't seen that in years. I love all of it! She's so pretty, I wish I looked like her. And her hairs so straight and I actually can't believe Channing Tatum shoved a tampon up his nose. EWWW! He's so brave. And pretty. And sexy as shit. I would have piece of that any day of the year. And that guy. Uh! What's his name again? Oh I don't know! He's in Step Up- 2 and Aliens in the Attic. He's kinda pretty but is no Channing Tatum. OR Jonny Depp. No ones Jonny Depp. How could you be? Have you seen that. OMG! Like he's so totes-"

I shoved my hand over her mouth. Silence. I motioned for her to play the movie. She clicked play and the Netflixing began. We watched in silence as it started nearing my favourite bit. I loved this bit.

When Viola goes, dressed up as Sebastian,

" _And I see you for what you really are, which is UGG-LAY_!"

Ahh. Bless.

Next film, Wreck it Ralph. Next movie, 21 Jump Street. Next movie 10 Things I Hate About You.

I am officially in love with the movie. And even I have to admit, Heath Leger is really pretty. We were up to the bit where he's standing next to her, staring at the guitar in her car,

" _Yeah, I know. But then, you know, there's always drums, and bass, and maybe one day even a tambourine,_ "

And as the credits rolled through, I only just realised the time, 4:38 am.

"Shit, you guys,"

But I was only greeted with the soft snores of Angel and the groans of Nudge. Sighing I picked up the spiral notebook and sat on the window sill.

I couldn't sleep.

So I wrote.

 _Cause it's a girl's night_

It's alright without you

I'm gonna stay out

And play out without you

You better hold tight

 _This girl's night is without you_


	5. Off To The Races

**Hello people of the night and day.**

 **I'm so lazy. And so very sad. My favourite band in the entire world isn't coming to Australia. The BVB Army in Australia needs their BVB fill. I'm so drained. Could somebody just write this chapter for me. No really. My mind is only focused on Andy Biersack and CC and trust me, once you've got them in your head, there is NO getting them out.**

 **Mother dearest is just telling me about my life ahead, and my job, and Uni and other shit. I'm so tired.**

 **It's 1:19 am and I could pass out.**

 **So let us see, how this goes down.**

 **Off To The Races**

 **April 21, Year 2012**

"Max, you know what you need?"

I groaned, rolling out of bed, onto the floor, blindly reaching for my currently missing leg.

"Mmrph magh lehgsas?"

"What?"

Ugh. Grabbing the crutches, I hoisted myself up and off the floor, to the stair well. Hobbling down, I made my way into the kitchen, where the three boys sat and Nudge.

"Max?"

"Ten minutes. Ten minutes, please. Let me wake up,"

I rested my head on the table and could feel myself drifting.

"Okay, ten minutes up, Max, you should make a Bucket List,"

My head shot off my folded arms, and my chin rested on them. I gave a quizzical look at Nudge and she gave a sheepish grin.

Ooo.

Head rush.

Laying my head back down, I asked,

"A what-now?"

"A Bucket List, you know, where you put a bunch of things you wanna do before you turn twenty-one or-"

I tuned her out. I was really slow this morning.

"Sounds great Nudge. Let me. . ."

And I slept.

Until violently being shaken awake seemed fun at the moment.

"OKAY! I'M UP!"

"So? Yay or neigh?"

Yawning I said yay. What was I thinking. By the end of it, and after some heavy debating, some tantrums, a gallon of milk, a lot of Fall Out Boy and Black Veil Brides later, we had come up with a list.

1\. Travel the World

2\. Meet top ten favourite famous people

3\. Play baseball with the Yankees

4\. Beat the three year deadline

5\. Get kissed

6\. Get a boyfriend

7\. Meet Fangs fiancé

8\. Get arrested

9\. Go to high school

10\. Scare the shit out of everyone there

11\. Visit Ells

12\. Visit Mum and Dad

13\. Locate Ari

14\. Steal some shit

15\. Break some shit

16\. Sing on a world renowned stage

17\. Achieve World Domination

18\. Sky dive/bungee jump

19\. Join a crew

20\. See if I can find the twin

That was it so far. There are, like, seven other pages, but I'm way lazy to say the other things. I know a bunch of them are far fetched (baseball with the Yankees) but, a girl can dream right? I had throughly ignored and avoided Fangs constant stares and quizzical eyes.

I am not in the mood Fangles.

And at the moment, Iggy, Nudge and I were booking a tour of Australia. So this was the plan:

Sydney:

Opera House.

Climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

Aquarium.

Go to all the Zoos.

Casually swim in the Harbour.

Canberra:

See Parliament House (blurgh)

Melbourne:

SKYDECK!

Concert of some sort at Etihad and MCG and Rod Lava

MELBOURNE SHOW!

Adelaide:

Float down the Murray River

ULURU!

Perth:

Crown Casino

Every beach on the coast.

Kalgoorlie

Kununurra

Geraldton

Visit Ells

Alice Springs:

ULURU!

Kakadu?

Gold Coast:

Umm, self explanatory.

And that is basically what we are gonna do, to start my travelling of the world. But before we go running around Australia as a bunch of back-packers, I was meeting this Prettty-Russian-Doctor-Lady before we left.

Whether Fang liked it, or not.

And tonight, was the night.

 **-/:;()$()$ & []_{\\}|#~%^*£+€=¥**

After a screaming match, I was getting ready, with the help of the girls, much to my dismay. I was really anxious. But probably not as much as Fang.

The girls had dressed me up in a ghetto as fuck outfit. And I was actually into it. Until they pulled out the tiny, micro mini, motherfucking skirt.

"Hell Nah!"

"Please Max!? Please, just this one time!?"

"Fuck No!"

I yelled, holding my towel to my body and running my sweet arse down the stairs. I continued running until I got to the boys room.

"Hide me!"

I screeched. The boys looked up at my slightly wet hair and my wild eyes, Iggy grabbed me and threw me in Fangs room.

Fang looked up from his laptop, probably blogging, and stared at me with confusion in his eyes.

"Max? What-"

But I didn't let him finish, because next moment I had my hand thrown over his mouth, sitting on his stomach and looking to the door like I expected a murderer to walk in in the next moment.

His laptop had fallen to the side and he had his hands up in the surrender, eyes wide. I gave him a look and he nodded, so I removed my hand and pressed a hand to his chest, going to push myself off.

But he caught my hand, arm suddenly around my waist. I was so suddenly trapped I had no time to gasp in surprise.

And then I felt a blush creep up my neck.

After all, the only comfort I could find was the towel wrapped around my torso, my black bra straps poking out the top and my black underwear.

He wrapped the other arm around my torso and pulled me into a hug.

Damn him.

He was wearing a black dress shirt, buttons open, showing his olive toned chest and slightly there abs. And his black skinny jeans, holes ripped all on the knees. Barefoot.

He was wearing a strange smelling cologne, like, it was fruity, but spicy, like raspberry, no, maybe like cinnamon, or maybe-

I am putting too much thought into his cologne.

He pulled back, pulling me away so he could look at my face. His black eyes searched mine, an unspoken question in them. I smiled shyly and nodded.

And then graced me with his lopsided smile.

He hugged me for a while longer and we both went stock still when we heard the girls, tearing down the stairs.

"Hiding?"

"Yeah, they want me in a mini,"

Then suddenly he got a glint in his eye.

A glint I knew all too well.

"Shit,"

Next thing I know, I'm in the skirt and meeting the Fang and the Chick at the restaurant. In the car, All Time Low's _Reckless And The Brave_ came on and we all screamed the lyrics,

" _LITTLE RATS RUNNING MAZES, HAVING BABIES,_

 _ITS A VISCOUS LITTLE WORLD THAT WE LIVE IN,_

 _LOOKING BACK AT A LIFE ON THE OTHER SIDE_!"

We start strutting into the restaurant, getting the table, when suddenly the girls dragged me into the bathroom.

"Girl, quick touch up,"

Groaning I let them take me.

I was wearing red pumps that were relatively easy to walk in. The fucking high waisted mini skirt, which was black and came about midway down my thigh. I then had a black belt with lots of silver studs wrapped around my waist. Then I had a black shirt, with a white collar and white buttons. Then a loose red neck tie, hanging down my neck, (na duh), then I had a red bandanna tied around my head, my long waist length hair hanging down in blow waves, fringe hanging gently over my eye, emo style.

Then I had black lips, smokey black eye shadow and bold black eyeliner, mascara coating my lashes.

They were fussing about me and then fussing about themselves, before fussing over each other, then fussing over me again. We finally left the place, to see Fang introducing, her.

She had bright red hair, that was clearly from a bottle, that fell over her shoulders, stopping just below her chest. She was wearing a short black dress, that had a sleeve off and one full length, like, glove thing, with rhinestones up the arm.

She wore bright red knee high boots and black tights.

She had bright green eyes and a sly grin as she smiled at the boys. I already didn't like her. She was your typical pretty girl.

Ya know?

The kinda girls that are like, 'I'm not even pretty' then get all the, 'Shut up! Darling you're Gorge' and then are like, 'OMG, Rilly?' And everyone's like 'YES!'.

Eww.

Get me a bucket.

As she hugged Gazzy and engaged in a conversation with the two of them, Iggy and Gazzy, Fang looked over and saw me.

His arm stopped touching her elbow, floating mid air and his eyes widened. His lips parted and he turned away, calling for a waiter.

Huh.

Weird.

Why am I blushing?! Mah Gawd! This is ridiculous. TRAUMATISED!

Then suddenly she turned her beady green eyes on me. Her eyes grew and she grinned, showing perfect teeth. I smiled back, hopefully in a nice way, not in a 'I can't believe Fang picked your stupid stereotypical arse' kinda way.

She ran up to me and pulled me into a bear hug. Which was weird. Cause she's tiny as. Like. Barely 4'8" tall.

"You must be the Max I've heard so much about!"

She shrieked. I smiled down at her and said,

"You must be Karleen!"

She nodded enthusiastically.

The dinner seemed to be going well, and I had got up to go to the bathroom. After quietly excusing myself, I walked toward the fancy arse bathroom. On the way, I happened to bump into Fang, who swiftly caught me, before I went sprawling all over the place. After swinging me up, I was caught in between the wall and him.

"Hi,"

I said, just peering up at him through my eyelashes.

"Hey,"

He responded. He looked down at me, a look of slight wonder just briefly slipping into his gaze. This confuddled me (heh heh, confuddled), why is he looking at me in awe? Wonder? Whatever the heck that emotion was.

"What?"

I asked, disturbing the slight silence. A small smile graced his features. A real one. None of that lopsided shit, or even the cheeky smirk I'm so used to. A real, genuine Fang smile. Even if it was only a small one.

I felt heat flare up my cheeks.

"You look, amazing,"

Then he winked, actually winked, and waddled off, in the only way Fang can.

I swear my heart had a little panic attack.

I ran all the way to the bathroom, well, as well as I could in my heels. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, after doing my bizz, and checked out my red cheeks.

"Oh come on!"

I whispered viciously to my reflection, before gently slapping myself on the arm.

"Get it together. Stupid hormones,"

I quickly ran back.

We all sat down quickly and I couldn't help but feel Fangs gaze on me. Then we engaged in friendly conversation.

"So Max, what do you do?"

I almost chocked on air. Nudge looked at me in panic and Angel glared down at the table.

"Umm, I don't work currently, looking for a job,"

"Oh, what a shame, anything your interested in?"

I squirmed a little bit.

"Umm, counselling and helping kids, like myself and, kids with depression and stuff. I used to do trips a lot and I've got like another visit coming up, so yeah,"

She nodded, taking a swift drink of her scotch.

"So, you got any family?"

Oh shit.

"Mummy! MUMMY!? MUMMY COME BACK! PLEASE!"

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Scream. Claw. Bang.

"DADDY! NOO!"

"Take them. Take them and run,"

I could feel my eyes blurring. I barely said 'excuse me' before I was running for the bathroom. I ran in and flung the door shut.

I pressed my back against it and slid down, hyperventilating.

The images flashed through my head. Drips. Screams.

I started clawing, feeling the panic set in as I'm thrown back into that memory.

The very livid memory that haunts my nightmares.

The money.

The knife.

The gun.

Baby blankets.

Telephones.

The lights.

I began clawing at my skin, pushing away at nothing. I couldn't get the vision out of my mind. I couldn't escape the dark eyes. The scars that line my back. The scar across his eye. The one I caused. I was scared.

I could feel them cornering me. Chasing me in the streets. All over the place. They thought I was crazy. Mental hospitals.

The white Walls so similar to the ones I was dragged down.

The smell of antiseptic and something alien so much the same to the rooms filled with creatures.

The smell of death.

Voices called to me. Banging. Crashing. Knocking. Screams. It was too much. Too much too fast. I couldn't take it.

So I did the only thing I know how.

I slammed my head against the tiles, effectively helping me to escape the nightmare.

No one knows anything about that night.

Nobody knows how I got the scars.

Nobody knows how we escaped.

Nobody knows where he is.

I've never told the story.

Because to me.

It's not a story.

It was the worst night of my life.

 **-/:;()$()$ & []_{\\}|#~%^*£+€=¥**

 **Third POV**

"Max!"

Nudge screamed. This was scary and it hadn't happened in a while.

In one of the off times that Max had been let out, supposedly cancer free, she went home with her parents. Ari had just been born, he was about six months old. There was Ells, who had only just figured out how to walk, and finally Maya.

One night something terrible happened. Ella and Ari were both to young to remember and somehow they had drugged Maya, little seven year old Maya.

Max is the only one that knows what happened that night.

Max is the one that saved her entire family.

When she first got out, they took her to the hospital, which, in turn, caused her to panic, screaming about the hallways and a scary man.

They officially dubbed her crazy and threw her into Mayhill's Sanctuary, or the Mental Institution.

Three weeks later, cancer struck again and she was out of Mayhill's and back into the hospital, getting treated.

Every week, she would have a panic attack, where she'd go crazy, picking up scalpels, even water jugs, in a method of self defence.

She would scream endlessly, not letting anyone get close enough to sedate her.

No one could get close and eventually, she'd hurt herself, to get her out of her nightmare.

She hadn't had an attack in seven years.

"Max!? Max, please just open the door!"

All five of them were in the bathroom. Angel was crying, being held by a screaming Gazzy, Nudge was clawing at the stall door, Iggy running around the restaurant, phone pressed to his ear, frantically calling for someone's help, the ambulance and staff in general. And finally, there was Fang.

Fang had his head pressed against the stall door, whispering quietly to an unresponsive Max. Nudge had manger to claw the door open, and Fang was inside, holding Max's head, torso resting against his knees.

"Come on Max,"

He whispered gently, barely saying anything at all. Max's unresponsive body lay heavily against him.

Suddenly he felt like he was going to faint, his vision had gotten that blurry. Then suddenly less blurry.

And that happened again and again.

He was faintly aware of people whispering outside, some scared wails and red, lathering on his hands as he cradled her head.

"Why Max?"

This question held more then just 'Why had she run away?'. There was 'Why so hard?' And 'Why do you have to hurt yourself?' And also, 'Why won't you tell me, why?' And 'What happened that night?'

Max told him everything. Except what happened that night. She hadn't told anyone. Not even her twin, Maya. Not Ari, nor Ella.

She had locked it deep inside her, that not even Doctors and interrogations could crack her open enough to find out.

She had given them the description of the man, but not what he had done. Not how she had escaped. Not what he was capable of.

How she was still alive despite everything.

He had always admired her for that. He bravery. The fact that she never gave up. The fact she could have just given up. But she didn't.

And here she was.

In his arms.

Holding her unresponsive bleeding body.

He was faintly aware of more people entering the bathroom, questions and a faint wailing in the background.

But none of it mattered. What mattered was that his best friend was okay.

And as they wheeled her off, he finally figured out why he kept feeling he was gonna pass out. When he looked at his hands, he knew why.

Blood.

He felt sick.

So sick in fact.

She hadn't hurt herself like this in a long time. And she said she never would again. But here he was. Watching as they wheeled her body down the hallway, passed frightened dinner guests.

He felt his heart contracting in his chest.

And suddenly Karleen was there.

"Baby? Are you okay? Honey, stop crying?"

Crying? He pushed his hands to his face, coming away slightly wet, salty water mixing with blood. Max's blood.

He looked at Karlee.

It was her fault Max was hurt.

He shoved her hand away, and simply said,

"You promised,"

He walked away from her stunned figure, to Angel who was on the floor.

Angel was like Max's baby. Angel looked up to Max as though she was a hero.

And to some degree, she was.

Is.

And forever shall be.

He held out his arms and she launched her tiny body into his arms. In all the time he had known Angel, never had he seen her this distressed.

He looked up at Gazzy then. His big eyes, layered in tears, many tear tracks down his face. Fang offered him a small smile, an 'it's okay, it's Max we're talking about here' smile and opened an arm up, just as Gazzy threw himself down next to Angel, hugging his sister and his best friends waist.

Nudge was being held by a distant Iggy, non-seeing eyes staring at the mirror in an odd mixture of disgust, terror, pain and sadness.

"Fang,"

His voice broke on the syllable.

His arm seemed to lift on its own accord and suddenly Nudge was there, gripping his waist, and Iggy holding Nudge and an arm wrapped around Gazzy, a hand holding Angels. He had an arm gripped around Fang, using him as though he was a life line.

Max meant so much to these four.

What they would do when she left, they just couldn't tell.

 **Hey Guys!**

 **IM SO SOWWY!**

 **I haven't updated in a while. I've had serious writers block. And I tried today and BOOM! This shit happened.**

 **Max: About time, we've been sitting here in this chair, watching you do nothing for hours on end.**

 **Iggy: Yeah. And now we finally do something.**

 **Oh, shut up. I tried.**

 **Just thought I'd add some insight to her childhood.**

 **After all, we all have haunting memories.**

 **So tell meh if it's okay, or if it's shit box. And remember THREE reviews I write.**

 **That's right I upped the game.**

 **Who's gonna bring it?**

 **And, this song is called 'Off To The Races' by Lana Del Rey.**

 **Also, does anyone know any Beta readers? Cause I think I kinda need one.**

 **So if you could just, like, ask around, that'd be grand.**

 **Anyway, I have the funniest story.**

 **I was in science, the other week, with one of me mates. And we were watching a documentary about animals or plants or some shit like that. And then I saw a bat and I'm like, 'IT SO CUTE!' And She's all like, 'EWW!'. So I ask her what she likes and she's like, 'well Koalas and Kangaroos and also Platypuses, and also Kangapuses' and then I started laughing like a maniac. She joined in. And we were just sitting there, rolling all over the tables laughing about Kangapuses while our science teacher was all like, 'Why is the She laughing with the Weird one?' And we laughed for ages.**

 **Hope you enjoyed mah story.**

 **If not. . .**

 **Well then.**

 **I'll just go and cry.**


	6. Oath

**Hello Sweet Children!**

 **Writers Block has been kicking my ass, so this is probably shit. But the drama has begun! Hopefully! . . . ?**

 **Iggy: Do you think James knows we're missing?**

 **Max: Probably, I mean all we do is eat his food, so he's bound to notice he has more food then he does normally.**

 **Guys! Shhh! He might hear us.**

 **Fang: Can I just say he lives on a different continent?**

 **Shhhh. . .**

 **He hears all. . .**

 **I have a question!**

 **Beta readers? Anyone know any? Or are any?**

 **I also have another question, or what's the word? Proposition? Umm, Well, the title is called LETTERs of a dying girl, and so far there has been no such thing, so I was thinking of making a sequel, involving the letters.**

 **Do you guys want that or nah?**

 **Oath**

* * *

 **April 24, 2012**

(Back to Max POV)

 _Beep_

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _Beep_

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _Beep_

 _. . ._

 _Beep_

 _Dear God why won't someone turn the alarm off!?_

 _Actually, why the fuck is there an alarm?!_

Groaning I lifted my head up, opening my eyes slightly before slamming them shut, laying back down.

I was aware of the soft painful pounding in the back of my head, but confused on where the fuck I was.

After at least three-ish minutes, I could finally open my eyes.

White ceiling, so, so blindingly white. The walls were a white wash, cream, a window stretching across one side, nurses and doctors bustling about, behind plastic curtains.

I looked down to my pale hands, gripping the paper sheets I despise so much. Ignoring the Drip in my arm I searched and saw my bedside table bear.

Thank God.

I hate flowers and 'Get Well' cards.

And I also noticed a certain someone sitting in the chair next to my bed. Well, sort of, on my bed.

And I couldn't help but smile.

He was folded over in the chair, legs crossed and slightly under the ugly plastic chair. He was leant over, arms folded, head resting on his arms. His mouth hung open slightly, a teeny bit of drool in the corner. He had a slight stubble, his eyes had bags and his long hair was greasy. He was breathing roughly, but evenly.

 _Fang_.

Next second my hand is in his greasy black hair, slightly tugging at the locks. He doesn't do anything, just shifts, taking one long sigh.

Letting my hands dance through his hair for a little while, just ignoring the world. Just like the old days.

When we were little, Fang used to spend his Saturday mornings with me in the hospital. He'd come early, every time and the nurses would let him in, as long as he was quiet. Which is silly, because he barely makes any noise when he's trying to be loud.

He used to watch me sleep, before falling asleep himself. A lot like how we are now. Although he used to hold my hand.

Then I'd wake up, play with his hair until he woke up. He always woke up confused and slightly disheveled and it was adorable.

Because here's the thing. When he was little, he had to wear big old glasses, that were always slipping off the end of his nose.

He only wears them now when he has to read.

But they framed his big kid eyes, that always seemed happy. When I woke up, he'd sigh and say, _'You're up?_ '.

Which I knew was code for, _'You're here for another day_ ,'. And I'd always say, _'You won't get rid of me_ ,'. And he'd say, _'Never_ ,'.

Then we'd watch a movie, Harry Potter or Star Wars or something like that. Then he'd pull out Scrabble, because we weren't allowed to play Monopoly.

He always used big words he'd learned from Panic! At The Disco songs. And I always used funny words from Dr Seuss books.

Eventually he would win and he'd lay next to me, with his MP3 player, and we'd listen to Green Day and Nirvana and Blink-182 and bands like that, (with the occasional Backstreet Boys song, because Fang secretly loved them).

Then he'd leave at Twelve on the dot, to go play footy.

But as we got older, footy started turning into pool, and pool started turning into his Girlfriends and soon it turned into Parties.

Eventually turning into late mornings, rushed half hour visits, or no visits at all.

And that's when things got dark.

I barely registered his movement, until he grabbed my hand with both his, pressing his thumbs to his lips, still holding my hand.

"Max,"

I felt a sad smile fall on my lips. I closed my eyes at his tired features, his sad eyes. The slight disappointment. I felt my eyes fill with tears, slowly feeling one escape.

"Hey now,"

I felt him take one of his hands away, cupping my chin and brushing the stray tear off my cheek.

"It's okay, you're-"

"Why'd you stop coming?"

He looked at me with confusion disrupting his sleepy features.

"What do you-"

"I mean-"

I stopped. Then I remembered. The world didn't revolve around me. Fang had a life. A fiancé. A whole other life that didn't involve me.

He needed to be a teenager. That's why he stopped coming. He couldn't keep coming, especially as he got older.

With the stress of finding a good job, getting good grades, struggling to buy that house, he couldn't see me everyday.

A tear strolled down my face.

It'd be easier for him if I just died.

I looked him in the eyes, the eyes that were so much like the man that had almost killed my family that night.

I mumbled, so that I could barely hear it myself.

"What?"

I smiled at him, through my blurry eyes.

"Don't worry, it doesn't matter,"

He had a suspicious look in his eyes, and went push further but I squeezed his hand, reassuring smile on my face.

He looked skeptical but let it slide.

What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

 _But me. . ._

* * *

 **April 25, 2012**

I crawled into bed.

Ahh.

It smelt so good.

I felt a grin spread across my face as I squished my face into my pillow. I didn't want to sleep, I just wanted to chill. Relax. This week was busy, reliving the past and everything wasn't super great, in fact, quite draining.

Everything from the past couple of days had started playing through my head. My little panic attack, the hospital, the nightmares, my head, everything.

Angel and how she was going to uni.

Nudge and how her small fashion business was going.

Gazzy and Ig's with their military job.

Fang and his guitar playing, waiting for a band to pick him up.

And me.

What was I gonna do?

Not much. I mean I could go into the comic book industry? I loved to draw like that. But I hadn't been in the world for anyone to notice me. I guess I'd just have to give it a shot. After all, what's the worst that could happen?

So I'm pretty sure I lay there, over analysing everything, in the only way a girl can, for at least three hours, I got bored of hearing my own voice in my head.

And turned to music.

Ahh, music.

It was always there, so calming, so beautiful.

Suddenly a My Chemical Romance song comes on, Kill All Your Friends. I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. The song was so catchy and you couldn't help but sing along, despite the bluntness of the lyrics.

When you first listen to it, you expect it be scary and full on hard core rock, but it's actually pretty neutral.

 _"Well you can hide a lot about yourself,_

 _But honey, what're you gonna do?_

 _And you can sleep in a coffin,_

 _But the past ain't through with you."_

It starts of slow, and gently progresses to a little more rocky, the words speeding up, guitars speeding up, before slowing down a bit during the chorus.

 _"'Cause we are all a bunch of liars._

 _Tell me, baby, who do you wanna be?_

 _And we are all about to sell it,_

 _'Cause it's tragic with a capital T._

 _Let it be, Let it be, Let it be!"_

Then some kind of morbid words and a cool beat drop off, before just some strumming.

 _"'Cause we all wanna party when the funeral ends._

 _(Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba)_

 _And we all get together when we bury our friends._

 _(Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba)_

 _It's been eight bitter years since I've been seeing your face._

 _(Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba)_

 _And you're walking away, and I will die in this place."_

He loves metaphors and basically the next verse is just a bunch a metaphors. And he gets a little aggressive toward the end, smooth voice getting rough.

 _"Sometimes you scrape and sink so low,_

 _I'm shocked at what you're capable of._

 _And if this is a coronation,_

 _I ain't feeling the love._

 _'Cause we are all a bunch of animals_

 _That never paid attention in school._

 _So tell me all about your problems;_

 _I was killing before killing was cool._

 _You're so cool, You're so cool, So cool!_

 _'Cause we all wanna party when the funeral ends._

 _(Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba)_

 _And we all get together when we bury our friends._

 _(Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba)_

 _It's been nine bitter years since I've been seeing your face._

 _(Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba)_

 _And you're walking away, and I will die in this place."_

And my favourite bit comes up, where it's just the guitar and the same marching band beat in the background, adding the bass and then getting real punk.

" _You'll never take me alive._

 _You'll never take me alive._

 _Do what it takes to survive,_

 _'Cause I'm still here._

 _You'll never get me alive._

 _You'll never take me alive._

 _Do what it takes to survive,_

 _And I'm still here._

 _You'll never take me alive._

 _You'll never get me alive._

 _Do what it takes to survive,_

 _And I'm still here._

 _You'll never get me._

 _(Get me!)_

 _You'll never take me._

 _(Take me!)_

 _You'll never get me alive."_

Before jumping into the chorus for the final time where he just chucks a 'fucking' in the mix, which is nice. And then just kind of fades off, really nicely just ending with guitars and a long scrapey noise.

 _"Cause we all wanna party when the funeral ends._

 _(Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba)_

 _And we all get together when we bury our friends._

 _It's been ten fucking years since I've been seeing_

 _Your face 'round here._

 _And you're walking away, and I will drown in the fear."_

"Let me guess-"

"Shit Fang!"

"-Cemetery Drive?"

I was clutching my chest panting at him, before letting a laugh fall from my lips, flopping back on my bed. He was leaning against the door frame, secret smile under his flippy hair.

"Guess again,"

He started walking toward me, flopping on the bed next to me.

"Homecoming?"

"Nope!"

I said, popping the p. He looked sideways at me before grinning and saying,

"Kill All Your Friends,"

I grinned and gave him an ear phone, just as The Misfits 'Last Caress' began. He sighs and says,

"I've missed them,"

"Who?"

"The Misfits, Green Day, blink-182, Black Veil Brides, Falling In Reverse, all of them. . ."

I turned my head to look at him, just mouthing the lyrics. I feel a frown pull at my eyebrows and stared at him for a little bit.

"Why?"

He lets out a long breath and says,

"Karleen doesn't really like our music,"

My frown deepened. How dare she not let him listen to Taking Back Sunday! Or Sum 41!

"So? You should still get to listen to them,"

He sighs and shakes his head, rolling over and throwing an arm around my waist, pulling me toward him. He buries his head in the crook of my neck. I shake my head and pat his head, which just results in him nudging my collarbone with his nose.

"Why listen to them with her, when I can listen to them with you?"

I felt a grin come on my face, and a little blush as I shoved him off me, resulting in him falling to the floor, effectively ripping the headphones from my iPod.

"Hey!"

I just grinned, rolling over to look at him on the floor.

He had moved, so that he was laying face up, the top of his head resting on the side of the bed. My head hovered above his, kind of hanging off the bed.

He sent a lazy half smile at me. We lay like this for a while, lazy smiles, being the idiots we are.

"Are you still drawing?"

"What?"

He chuckled and began to stand up, I watched him move in one fluid motion, before his hand was in front of me and he was doing a weird little half gentleman bow thing.

"Shall we, m'lady?"

I grinned, before swinging my leg around the bed, crossing them and then placing my hand into his, ignoring my increasing heart beat and said,

"Why of course, my good man,"

He pulled me up and helped me walk up the stairs to the top room.

I walked toward my corner, staring at the darkening sky, just as Fang turned on the light, just making it glow, so majority of things were still in the dark. He went over and sat on his stage as I pulled out my sketch book, pulling out a 2B pencil and putting the end of it to my lips, tapping them gently.

Fang had picked up a guitar and began quietly strumming it. Opening my book, I looked at all the little vampire guys and zombies I had drawn in the corners, all the little doodles and scribbles or an actual picture.

It just depended. I looked at a comic strip I had made for Ella, but still needed to finish it, laughing every single time at little Captain Mutrutski, a classy little superhero, that wore a top hat, with one of those one eye spectacles and a little pocket watch that he always pulled out and said, 'Well I'm late now, thanks!" And then he'd go all bad ass and drop kicks someone.

Classic.

I turned to a new page and began to draw, not knowing what it was, but knowing it would turn into something.

It started out with strong, bold lines, straight and indifferent.

But I soon changed one of them to a softer, more pleasant feel.

Next, soft curving lines, sharp angles and less comforting shapes began to form. And soon I pulled out the fine liners, going over the thick lines with a .6 liner and going over the skinny ones with a .1 liner.

Soon the coloured pencils were out, sticking to mainly the blues, I began to colour in a large propionate of the page, going from light to dark the further down the page I coloured.

And soon softer curves an finer lines, black lines reaching out from the dark, lines gripping lines, red floating in the blue.

I began adding the finishing touches, less concentrated and listening to Fangs soft playing and singing.

I finally recognised the tune as 'Still Into You' by Paramore.

And I joined in softly,

" _You felt the weight of the world_

 _Fall off your shoulder_

 _And to your favorite song_

 _We sang along to the start of forever_

 _And after all this time I'm still into you_ ,"

It was definitely one of their sweeter songs. And I loved it any way. When he stopped strumming he looked over at me, brow raised in question.

I glanced down at the picture and shook my head.

He smiled and went to put the radio on, going through our extensive collection of music.

He pulled out Nothing Personal by All Time Low, opening up the album and putting the disc in the slot. He kept flicking through the songs before he stopped on Walls.

He held out his hand and pulled me up just as Alex's voice played through the speakers.

" _Hey there it's good to see you again,_

 _It never felt right calling this "just friends"._

 _I'm happy, if you're happy, with yourself,"_

I smiled as he pulled me against his chest, my hand on his shoulder, his in the small of my back. He started pulling us around in fast circles, dancing to the song. We laughed as he tripped around and I just kind of hobbled.

It was funny and I almost fell over at least twenty different times, but Fang always caught me.

We were flushed from dancing and singing, and finally the music began to slow down, the soft tune of Therapy flowing through the speakers.

He held me closer and I rested my head on his chest as we just swayed, occasionally being spun around and just singing along to the lyrics.

Before long, the song had ended and we just lay on the floor.

"I wanna try it again,"

"Hmm?"

"The dinner, I didn't really get a chance to speak with her, ya know, because of everyone else there. Do you reckon we could do coffee? Just us girls?"

He looked over at me and smiled.

"Of course,"

Then we lay down as we had changed the album, and now we were listening to Green Days '21st Century Breakdown', Twenty One Guns playing softly.

I sighed sadly as I realised my Fangles was going to be leaving soon. But if he was happy, then so was I.

As if reading my thoughts he said,

"You're my best friend, you know that, right Max?"

He reached over and grabbed my hand, clasping it in his.

"Yeah,"

Then we listened to the rest of the album in silence.

I was willing to give his fiancé another go, if she was willing not to fuck it up with her questions.

* * *

 _You need a hand, and I'm right there right beside you_

 _You in the dark, I'll be the bright light to guide you_

 _'Member the time, time, times sneaking out the house_

 _All of the time, time, times that you had your doubts_

 _And don't forget all the trouble we got into_

 _We got something you can't undo, do_

* * *

 **This was shit and a filler, I'm sorry.**

 **Review?**

 **I got a hair cut today. It's ugly and she straightened it and I'm not quite sure how I feel about it.**

 **This song is called Oath, by Cher Lloyd ft. Becky G. It's literally the only pop song I know, because it's me and my brothers song.**

 **So I felt the need to put it in here.**

 **So yeah.**

 **And I have a massive picture of Ronnie Radke in my room.**

 **And I'm not even sorry.**


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